I’m wearing my backpack and holding onto three oversized books. The backpack is irrelevant but the books are so large and heavy I have to mention them if only to complain.
Shortly after the start of my journey, my eyes are drawn to
a woman with a bright yellow dress. It is the color of H. A. Rey’s Man in the
Yellow Hat from his Curious George series of books. With such a vibrant yellow
against her dark skin she looks almost like an image from one of Toulouse-Lautrec’s
posters (which happens to be the subject of one of the oversized books I am
hugging onto as I walk). The woman is talking loudly into her phone and mulling about in
the one shady spot in that area.
I leave her behind as the path curves to the left. Behind me, a
male voice is speaking some foreign language I cannot easily place (I suspect
it might have been French but then again it sounds different so perhaps not). We definitely have a diverse crowd here.
My attention is drawn to two guys coming out of a building a
ways in front of me. My mind wanders from the subject of diversity to the
subject of group analysis. The groups walking the same directions I am going
and others are not divided by race, bloodline or nationality. Instead it appears
to be divided by body type. The two guys have drastically different ethnicities and – based
on one’s apparent accent – nationalities. But they are both appear to be fairly active
individuals and know the gym more than just the weekly yoga class I
take.
I have become aware that I following a woman with long brown
hair which curls near the ends. She is wearing a green backpack.
The foreign speaker walks a faster pace than I and soon is
walking in front of me. He is wearing a button down shirt and formal pants. He is not skinny but his bulky frame does not appear to be mainly fat. At
first I think he is closer to my age but looking up I spot the graying edges of
his black hair. The only word I recognize him say was Pensacola.
To my right, a girl on a bicycle wizzes by. Her fast speed
compared to the other pedestrians draws my attention and, in spite of myself
and the fact I am walking in the opposite direction, I turn my head, following
her progress down the concrete.
She nearly runs over the two athletic guys. I turned my head too slowly to see the event but I see the aftermath. She yells a loud, “SORRY!” One of the
guys makes a joke. His companion and the red-haired bike rider laugh and she keeps on going. I smirk
even though I did not hear the actual joke. I understand its spirit.
Exiting the same building as the two guys had left is a
skinny fellow. He sets down a skateboard. I expect him to go soaring at the same
speed as the bike rider but only goes a few feet before he stops. I realize he
is just learning as I notice another guy nearby making instructive gestures.
My attention is drawn back to the girl with brown hair and
green backpack. She is still walking in front of me. Absent mindedly, I wonder
if she thinks I am following her. We keep walking in the same direction. Now I
am hoping she does not think I am stalking her. Her head tilts slightly so I
can see a sliver of her face. I look away in case she is looking back. It is a
good thing I am recording this via memory and not some suspicious notepad or –
even worse –taking a video with my phone.
The foreign speaker is back and now behind me slightly. He
had been in front of me but he must have maneuvered into the building I had
seen the two guys and the skate boarder exit. I thought it would have taken him longer to walk through the building but it must be his pace. I wonder why he didn't just walk around the building as I had.
I cross the street, more and more aware of following the
brown haired girl with the green backpack. Fortunately she turns right once we cross the street. I half minded think about turning and going in that
direction too, but no. There are laws
against that behavior.
The foreign speaker is once again in front of me and, much
to my displeasure, is going the same direction as I am drawn to. Guess I’m
following another person. Could make a job out of this.
I slow my walk to let him get away. I notice a plaque with
the year of my birth on it. I have been in this area so
many times before but I never notice the plaque. Apparently I'm blind.
I’m walking on my own now. No people to observe. A recycling
bin is on its side with water sitting in it. I consider putting it upright so
no mosquitos grow but I am too tired. I am becoming more and more aware of the
large books in my hands.
A bit in front of me I see two girls walking. One is wearing
a shirt the same color as the woman in the yellow dress. Perhaps it is a
lighter shade. Her companion has short black hair. I cannot see her clearly but
I suspect she is wearing one of those vests with lots of buttons on it. She
looks like she would have a button collection either there or on her bag. I
should not stereotype but I would be surprised if she did not have any buttons. I will never know if I am right.
I pass a woman with long blond hair. Maybe its silver. Can't tell. She
reminds me of an art professor I once had but she’s in Orlando. Not her.
I shift to the right and now am walking on grass. Then in the middle of the empty street. I shift to the left side of the street. I pass a girl with glasses.
She is holding a lot of stuff. I think she’s actually a professor. She's older than I realized at first glance. It's the way she has her hair pulled. Makes her look like a student. She's probably waiting
for a ride.
Loud leafs crackle under me. A white truck
passes me and I wonder if it is the professor’s ride. I am now walking on concrete
again. I glance to the right in the direction I had come and see I was right. I begin to cross the street. I’m not
going to get hit by a car because there is so much traffic. They are all standing still like time had stopped. Hold up. Might have thought too soon. A jeep in the right hand lane rushes past. Fortunately the two lanes on the other side are completely empty. Less vehicles to remind that this part of the street indeed has a crosswalk and I have the right of way.
I see a guy and a girl sitting playing music waiting for a bus. I want to see
what they look like but they are facing the same direction as I am and they
will see me looking at them despite my sunglasses. The path turns left.
Two guys are walking in the opposite direction. They are
dressed in athletic shirts and pants. Either football or basketball players.
Probably football. Not tall enough to be basketball players. Either that or
they also hang out at the gym. As they pass I amuse myself with the fact how different we must look to one another. They are very athletic and here I am walking with a pile
of large books while wearing a Doctor Who shirt.
These books are getting heavier. Going to be glad to be home
again. I may take a longer derive just for the sake of wandering either tomorrow or Friday but I too tired to do one now.
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