Just One More

Clumps of moist earth stain the tired remnants of yesterday’s snow, and the sharp wind slaps me wetly on the cheek as I trudge onward. I can’t stop. If I do, I might not make it. After all, I forgot to leave my phone at home, and its slight weight in my pocket is a promise that connects me to everything I’m trying to leave behind.

But I need this. Air. Silence. Silence from too many thoughts and too many demands and too many little hands and shrill voices all asking and telling and wanting. I just want to be, without thinking of the future, or all the loads of laundry that have mysteriously appeared once more in the depths of the hampers, or the supper as yet unmade, or the piles of papers staring accusingly from the littered dining room table….