OLWG#425 Prompt: Others Do It Faster

I pass the same people on my route every single day.

One lady, she wears a green Carhart jacket, wears sensible walking shows and she has knock-knees, she zips up Elm Street to catch the bus on Meridian. You might think that walking would be a chore for her being that her knees touch and all but it doesn’t slow her down a single step. She flies up to her bus stop. She flies because she is in a hurry.

Everyone on my route is.

There is a man that I pass who owns   a one of those corner grocery stores that sell chicken pieces and burritos that are kept warm under a light bulb and off brand snacks at the counter. The shop windows are dirty and covered with rusted bars and the door has decals warning you that he won’t sell you beer if you’re under 21 and a hand written sign informing you that there is no public restroom.

Most of the food stuffs on the shelves are past their expiration dates, the companies that made the shampoos  and soaps went out of business ten years ago but  none of that matters because the coolers that line the walls are new and they shine and they hum  and they are stuffed with every kind of cheap beer that the world has to offer.

The man ( none of his customer’s know  his name, they just assume it’s Glen because the name of the shop is Glen’s Mart)  who owns the store rushes into work every morning, I have a feeling that he wears the same clothes everyday and probably sleeps in an easy chair patched with duct tape and that it’s not a an alarm that wakes him.

It’s something in his head that says,  ‘ Go. Go. Go.’

So he goes, he runs as fast as he can, just like the Gingerbread Man.

Kids are always in a hurry on my route.

They race from their parent’s cars ( they don’t walk or ride bikes anymore )  out one door and straight into another- sometimes the doors are in their schools, or sometimes the shopping mall.  Kids may not be as adventurous as they were in the past, but it’s wired into them. They zip from screen to screen on their phones and computers and tablets.

Kids race along my route faster then anybody. It’s a shame really. They’re missing so much.

All of that racing.

All of that rushing.

I don’t race and I don’t rush.

Instead I walk, and sometimes I ride my horse and sometimes I glide like the shadow that I am from tree to tree, from door to door. Sometimes I knock but I always find my way in-

today I am on my way to visit the lady with bad knees t- I have been following her since the day she took her first breath and I will be with her when she takes her last.

The kids zipping and rushing from one screen to another are on my route too and eventually I will collect them and theeven man who owns the corner store.

I don’t have to rush.

I have all of the time in the world to get to the places I am going.