What Were They Doing?

This past Saturday I had inexplicably found myself night-walking. The time was well after 12 pm (which means that I was technically walking by myself early on a Sunday). I was alone and free; I walked down the empty sidewalks, taking giddy steps and smiling as I did so. There was no one was to judge, no one to make their unfair, incorrect assumptions about me.

There are no stigmas in the night, I thought to myself. It was a good thought, if not weak. If the wrong type of person had suggested it, I would have torn it apart like a wolf. I knew that then as I know that now. Then, it didn’t bother me. There are no stigmas in the night; there were stigmas about the night, and unfair, incorrect assumptions about some of the people who walked it . . . But there were also no people to judge me about it.

Or, no one to incite my anxieties. My insecurities.

Those were the things that the gods in my sub-conscious warned me about. I didn’t want to think about them at the time. So I didn’t. Simple.

I had turned around, after dancing in the middle of the road for what had seemed like an eternity. It was time to go home. I heard the forlorn call of the loon; it echoed off the river (the St. Mary). Something caught my eye, and I glanced down at the sidewalk. A millipede was crawling on the cement, going somewhere, hundreds of little legs propelling it forward. As I came closer and closer to my street, I began to notice that there were thousands of them . . .

. . . Thousands upon thousands, upon thousands upon thousands . . . Millipedes crawling on the side-walk . . . Making their way towards some unknown destination.

That’s when I realized what those sub-conscious gods were desperately trying to say.

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