Another Runner in the Night
from the age of 15 3/4 I walked to school through a field.
A field of Long grasses, rabbit and fox holes, butterflies, slugs, snails, sky larks.
I didn't know then, but that was my mindfulness time. I wandered through the well trodden paths on which people walked their scabby mongrels. Everyone had scabby mongrels - even us.
I looked for the sky larks dropping to the ground, and tried to find their nests, I watched the bunnies running around, I examined dead bunnies - mixing-my-toassties was quite a real thing back then.
Late early february I wasn't keeping well. But still I trudged back and forth. This was my Ordinary Grade year, and one morning it was frosty and a bit of snow had fallen and I stomped my way across the field; walking the paths, even though I couldn't see them.
About half way across the field, Crunch. Crunch.
I lifted my foot, and there glistening in the snow was a snail. Shell crushed to death.
I looked at it, and burst into tears. I was inconsolable.
I'd like to think it was because really I was sick, and my sickness was playing on my emotions.
But honestly, I was just devastated that I killed something for no reason.
So tonight, while we walked, I stepped carefully around, and over, and even stopped to take a photo.
And then... bloody hell, as we were walking back - crunch.
I bloody well did it again.