My
eyes are imprisoned. My heavy eyelids keep them locked away from the light.
Another morning has come as my life’s routine continues. I can picture myself
leaping out of bed, as though I was 25 years younger. The cold tile biting at
my feet. Excited for the day and everything it promises. But now, I take a deep
breath just to collect all my energy to pull myself up. The struggle that is
holding breath within my lungs. To overthink everything to the point where I sit
motionless as time continually escapes me. Maybe I should create some errands
for myself. I begin to stand up before I realize that a simple trip to the mall
will consume my day. It will devour my energy. Regardless I move what feels
like a rustic body, every muscles pulling me towards my bed as gravity pulls
you towards the ground.
“Does
everyone get wrinkles here?” I giggle to myself as I touch my face. My skin worn.
Then I hear my floor slowly creek reflecting ever growing age. As my mutt approaches me slowly I converse, “you
too eh? I guess it’s just one of those days.” A bark is forced as my instruction
to feed him, my true companion.
After
having done 5 minutes worth of daily chores in 60 minutes I gently grab the keys
to my car as I head out the door, “I’ll be back in a bit buddy” I say in a rehearsed
voice. Before I readjust my glasses I rub my dull blue eyes, once so vibrant,
now they attract sympathy of aging adults. My grey hair fixes itself along my
balding head. Suddenly a whisper or breath pushes me as the intense cold air
races through the halls of my apartment. My thick plaid jacket unable to
protect me. “Hello” my raspy voice
sounds as my neighbor quickly passes me. Constantly in a rush, that is no way
to live your life.
A
white Chevy Tahoe sits in the parking lot. A white pearl. My white pearl. Sitting down in the seat shaped to fit me I
turn the ignition and the car starts without fail. 300,000 KM mark its age just
does the veteran plate marks mine, a sign of respect that others use as an explanation
for their own driving mistakes. As I
cautiously make my way to the mall I find the world has once again grown and
become more congested. I remember when people were few. I remember when I could
drive empty streets. I remember when the cost of gas was nothing more than a
brief thought. But to remember is to live in the past, and therefore forget the
precious seconds that I solemnly grasp. After the adventure that is parking my car I gingerly
open the door and am once again punched in the gut by the cold air. The
refreshing air. I walk to the other end of the mall before entering. This would
be my daily walk outdoors. The chatter
of young folks echoes off every object as I enter through computer automated
doors. As I pass a store to my left with a trendy name an argyle sweater
attracts my eyes. Without thinking I walk towards it until I can barely reach
it to feel its texture. Some petite woman working sees me and quickly turns
around to avoid offering me help. I walk out. No one notices me as I walk alone
with my hands shoved deep within my khaki’s pockets.
After
seconds of wandering I find myself at the cold exit. Three o’clock approaches
and my body warns me. I walk faster with strides that exercise my legs. Hunger
knocks on my body and I’m forced to retreat home where I will eat grey food
before falling asleep as part of my bodies recovery over the day’s events. I
can see my dog wage his tail in my presence. It’s time to go home once more.
