get lost

How hard it was to turn back! I circled round and cross, keeping the idea: it's only coincidence. Never mind that I knew the house wasn't for me. No pets allowed. Still, it was enough to justify my looking there.

I'd always hated subdivisions. First, out of jealousy -- I grew up way off-road, and drank water from a cistern. Later, it was an effort to not conform. as in, that'll never happen to me, man. I still can't see the appeal. these neighborhoods strive for uniformity. some even have rules about fences and mailboxes. I would hate to grow old in such a development. I suspect the sameness might contribute to the early-onset dementia I'm certain to develop.

I'd become claustrophobic and dizzy from driving up and down the same connecting streets for twenty minutes. I dared myself to be the chicken who crossed the road. as soon as I pulled in, I laughed at myself and spoke aloud, "stop the car. turn around. you don't want to be this." and I did. I let my real self navigate, for once.

so pleased I was, I thought of enjoying the carnival on the short horizon. I had seen it the week before, so it couldn't have much time left. I wanted to elate and terrify myself on the Ferris wheel. turn, turn, pause. the stops are the hardest part. literally suspended in space, you feel both giant and useless as your every sense absorbs the view. I thought I could probably see downtown from the top if the smog weren't so thick.

then I realized I might see other things very close up. maybe a crisp family dressed to match one another according to age and gender. big, white smiles and curious faces. or, since the evening was almost gone, maybe they'd be tired and rumpled. the father would sway like a heavy tree, his boughs hanging low, barely clutching the children he carries. the very smallest one is feeding, her cheeks sticky with sweat on her mother's breast. no matter, this would be a family content and spent from a long day together.

perhaps I could slip by without notice. I could hide behind a funnel cake or an overstuffed toy I'd won throwing darts at balloons. no one would look at the barely-bathed heavy woman walking alone, anyway.

but to see hurts more than to be seen, and I have no way of hiding happy families. so I drove.