In the Shadows

            I am walking alone and the lonely road embraces my slow and paced steps to the grocery store, I notice that my shadow is betraying me with an uncertain and diffuse shape, a shape that reminds me of a kid that lacks all the confidence of a real man, yes, I am implying, by saying this about myself that I am not sure about everything in my life and how it makes me look. Although there's no other way to describe the feeling of insecurity of this lonely street and how it reflects on my face and the way I move my body towards the grocery shop, while I walk, my lazy steps and gazed eyes are focused only in what's in front of me to avoid eye contact with anyone that might cross my path with the intention of doing harm or is just looking for the lust of killing someone so weak as I look.

          Thirty-three steps to the grocery store, it’s all I need to get to the shop, I open the door and another 8 steps are needed to reach the counter where I am going to buy some cigarettes and a new lighter. My old lighter is almost done with its late life, I am going to give it some rest, but only after the rest of the fire that born and burns every time I press the zipper with my afraid fingers is extinguished by my fingers, the fingers of someone that has nothing better to do than breathe the next smoke of another cigarette; another lone cigarette that burns in my lungs and colour my smooth yellow teeth with some more fresh yellow, more disgusting smell and a very sensual breath of loneliness that only attracts more loneliness; the last breath of the last memory a memory of when I was still healthy and loved by the beauties of my youth. How can someone condemn its own existence to the oblivious of solitude in an attempt to forget its own past and/or life? I ring the bell and the waitress comes with her unpleasant, false and theatrical smile that gives me the false warmth that will make me spell the words “thank you!” with a yellowish smile. I ring the bell and I hear the lovely voice of the blond-fat-piggy face lady that shows up from the back room of the store, I no longer need to think about my life and imagine that she doesn't like me or that I am just another lost soul in this world, a soul that spends its life just smoking memories, smoking cigarette after cigarette every time it appeals my consciousness. No, that's not me, and there I am again: Wondering around and about my head. “Excuse me Sir!” I've my daydreams shaken out of me, all I was trying to do was fill the waiting time with something, something that doesn't evoke any anxiety; yes I may not be that weak and lost but I suffer the worst condition of all... impatience … I am a nervous person that smokes cigarettes to make my body and mind stop working...  in order just to feel the stopness of the moment, that moment where I can and only, for a few minutes feel nothing but peace... emptiness. I inhale the  smoke deeply and softly into my lungs, I let the smell of the cigarette drive me into unconsciousness where my existence no longer bothers me... nor anyone else for that matter and  in that moment, the cigarette is my lover.  “Excuse me Sir!” - Again. I let the words “Sorry Ma'am” escape almost inaudibly from my startled mouth, I feel very uncomfortable now, I hate interruptions so, now, I pretend to be sorry and in a false calm I buy my new cigarettes and a new lighter to replace my old and tired one. “Can I help you with anything else Sir?!” I notice some inquietude on her voice; I can hear her clearly because my present irritation forces me to concentrate my attention exclusively on her. She hands me the new lighter and cigarettes. “£7,30, anything else?” I nod slowly and negatively and say; “Thank you!”

    Outside. I can hear the crowd of the night walk as slowly as I walk... all of a sudden a small kid breaks the crowd, racing with someone’s purse under his arm, his right arm... he's running in my direction and I notice that he has no intention of stopping or being stopped so I move my body to the right, showing him that he could pass, but instead of just letting him run away I pull my right leg, I lift it just high enough to touch the kids shin and make him fall... I don't care if, now, he hates me, or if he gets caught. I am still at the grocery door and I just want to go home... the kid falls angrily on the pavement and the stolen purse is thrown several feet away and someone else picks it and starts running. “You moron, now I have no money to eat and its all your fault! See what you did, moron?” I ignore him and the other thief, a survivor of the streets makes his run to his shelter somewhere hidden in the shadows... but the shadows can only hide the body of another shadow, never the scent of hunger and poverty... this hidden place is a place of misery for the shadows of the streets. I light a new cigarette and start walking to my home where a warm and cosy sofa close to the fireplace awaits, where I will be able to read another page of another book. Smoke another cigarette.