The park, as he suspected, was abandoned, left to anguish in sedentary solitude until sunrise, when the first patrons of the morning would pay their visits. They would jog her trails or walk her grounds with their leashed dogs or simply rest awhile on her skin, enjoying the view of the pond and the ducks and geese that would soon breach its surface and roam the soggy bank, plucking away at anything that moved or could be considered a meal. For now, however, the place was dark and empty, sadder by far than the graveyard he had just left, if only because of the park's potential activity and the silence in place of the laughter of children.
He took to the woods first, stumbling through the grass and seeking out the path with his hands held in front of him. Once inside, he found it easy to follow the trail, since it was always the widest gap in the trees that surrounded him. He emerged from the woods on the other side of the pond, having blindly circled the entire park on a simple dirt path.
"What am I looking for?" he asked himself.
Finding no answers, no reason for being in this place at all, he walked back to the benches and the vacant playground nearby. He felt as though he was losing his mind. Waking up in a strange place was one thing--it was involuntary, after all, the result of an unconscious mind and a dreamed sense of attainable pursuit, but aimless wandering in the middle of the night, searching for fulfillment that may not even exist and realistic meaning to explain such dreams, was something else entirely. It felt like a sort of madness or, at the very least, the onset of insomnia and the denial of dreams altogether.
He rested on a bench, contemplating whether he should stay there to watch the sunrise. It wouldn't be long now, he told himself, then the world would shine, and he would be rescued from the darkness. Though truthfully, the dark wasn't what worried him. As he sat, he realized that he should have been completely exhausted from his hike, and while his joints and muscles did begin their anticipated aches, he found himself entirely awake. He wasn't the least bit tired, and this wasn't like a dream. This wasn't like a dream at all.
Before long, he moved from the bench to the playground, lowering himself carefully into one of the larger swings. As he rocked himself gently, the heels of his sneakers leaving trails in the dirt below, he wished he could remember how it felt to be young again.
He took to the woods first, stumbling through the grass and seeking out the path with his hands held in front of him. Once inside, he found it easy to follow the trail, since it was always the widest gap in the trees that surrounded him. He emerged from the woods on the other side of the pond, having blindly circled the entire park on a simple dirt path.
"What am I looking for?" he asked himself.
Finding no answers, no reason for being in this place at all, he walked back to the benches and the vacant playground nearby. He felt as though he was losing his mind. Waking up in a strange place was one thing--it was involuntary, after all, the result of an unconscious mind and a dreamed sense of attainable pursuit, but aimless wandering in the middle of the night, searching for fulfillment that may not even exist and realistic meaning to explain such dreams, was something else entirely. It felt like a sort of madness or, at the very least, the onset of insomnia and the denial of dreams altogether.
He rested on a bench, contemplating whether he should stay there to watch the sunrise. It wouldn't be long now, he told himself, then the world would shine, and he would be rescued from the darkness. Though truthfully, the dark wasn't what worried him. As he sat, he realized that he should have been completely exhausted from his hike, and while his joints and muscles did begin their anticipated aches, he found himself entirely awake. He wasn't the least bit tired, and this wasn't like a dream. This wasn't like a dream at all.
Before long, he moved from the bench to the playground, lowering himself carefully into one of the larger swings. As he rocked himself gently, the heels of his sneakers leaving trails in the dirt below, he wished he could remember how it felt to be young again.
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