Pilgrimage of Scars…

I can feel the wind against my face, cold and numbing, pilfering all the feeling on my skin as I walk through it. My eyes are closed, in a bid to convince myself that this is but a dream. My fist is clenched, with all the might that my frail fists can muster, trying to hold on to whatever I can. My knuckles, by now, are whiter than Katy Perry’s face. I am thoroughly convinced right now, that this is a position I would not want to be in.

My resolve has already endured a thorough onslaught; my ego is whimpering at the corner, already having suffered worse than the escapees from Sobibor. I can no longer trust my senses; I am informed they may be planning a mutiny. As for my mind (I call him Eustis), I have given him a time out; I really am not in the mood for his pessimism. His lack of support, constant criticism and badgering make me want to press a pillow against his face and keep pressing until he stops moving. To some extent though, I understand him (he hasn’t been the same ever since Muriel left him), but today, his pestering has been to brobdignagian proportions.

I finally convince my eyes to open and have a glance around, lest we fall into a man hole or step on a land mine. The street is empty. Steam released from the gutters celebrate their freedom, albeit momentarily, before they fall to the tyranny of the blistering cold. Newspaper clippings and plastic bags dance in the wind’s current; swaying from one side of the street to the other without the slightest care in the world. They play, oblivious of the chaos and turbulence around them; with childlike innocence and virgin-like naivety. I stop for a brief moment and watch, with envy, at the purity of their joy.

I take a deep breath, let out a depressed sigh and trudge on, not sure when all this will change or when the journey will be over. I continue down the abandoned path, taking in the mockery and absorbing the shame it comes with. I close my eyes again, to focus my mind and calm my heart. “Soon,” I reassure, “Very soon it will be and we will be there.” I open my eyes as I liberate another gush of air from my lungs. I look up to see the winding path as it disappears into the hills and brace myself for the damage I am about to inflict on my already blistered feet.

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