Companions

Morning. My thoughts are taking a walk, with I in tow. They are traversing a path strewn with certain hours of certain days. Objects, sights, platforms, smells. Remembered musings appear from corners. Sudden turns yield more images. I find myself having to catch my breath, sometimes, they are going too fast; other times, I stop and turn blank, unmindful of them. Then I would have to break into a run, just so I could keep up. There are times they pause and turn their heads to look at me, willing me to confront their faces and I comply, breathing a sigh of relief, taking a rest from the whirl of strangers and voices and gamuts of feelings. They resume and I follow. We keep walking and I start losing my breath.

By the time we return, I am exhausted, my cup of tea grown cold.