By Maltese
Cold brisk air fills my lungs; the walk down the road is five minutes going one way and seemingly longer coming back, uphill both ways. Where am I going? My watch has stopped ticking, my shoes are soggy, my coat is stained, and Hathor has been unkind. I sit on the bench, and I wait.
Clouds block the Sun; the road is crowded and extroverted. White noise fills my ears. Where am I waiting? My watch is broken, my socks are soggy, my coat is stained, and Apollo is ignoring me. I close my eyes, and I wait.
Commands forgotten, goals unseen, the third eye is closed, and my shoulders are sore. Why am I waiting? My watch is still broken, my feet are wet, my coat is stained, and Odin has failed me. I open my mind, and I wait.
Cruel Hathor, Neglectful Apollo, and Incompetent Odin, leave questions unanswered. Who am I? I remove my watch, I take off my footgear, I drop my coat, and I'm done looking for answers. I stand from the bench, and I leave.