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Notes from the Road, #2

Photo of a full moon at night.

The weather turned cold, and brutally cold at that. I had plans to embark on a miles-long walk from the Wally World for awhile. Every time I’d make the trip out there, I’d always left with too much stuff to walk home with it.

This time was different. I made sure of that.

I already missed the bus after getting sidetracked by the clearance section, the beauty department, the kitchenware, and the holiday baking gear with the seasonal stuff. The restaurant inside the store started closing for the day, (aka, end of trade for any international readers). The next bus wasn’t due out for another hour, since this bus route shifts from a frequency of multiple times per hour to just one per hour after normal business hours end.

I felt that second wind coming on, so before I could give myself a chance to go back on my harebrained scheme, I made the choice to gear up and start heading for home by foot.

Winter’s coming, so I probably won’t have the chance to make a trip like this for some time.

I passed the construction going on nearby, which closed several bus stops, and made things difficult for the last trip, when I had the granny cart with me. I headed down the street on the opposite side, and passed by what used to be Mustard’s, now a local restaurant. (Fun fact: Mustard’s was one of T-Boz’s favorite restaurants, which she wrote about in her book.) It had closed up shop for the evening, but I could still smell whatever they made that day. (Note: this was a good thing!)

Further up the street, I saw another shop had sadly gone out of business due to the pandemic. I remember seeing it as a lively, booming business this time a year ago when it first opened. I peeked in through the window. All that remained were the pieces of furniture, and a few unwanted decorations. These were the remains of someone’s livelihood, someone’s dreams, someone’s financial investment, and someone’s labor of love.

I hope those restaurant owners will be able to try again someday soon.

I approached the first of a few hills along the way, feeling my leg muscles burning as I pushed myself to walk as fast as I could up each way, using the downhill trek as my cool-down. Cars passed by, and the street lights cast their shadows along the cold and windy street.

The neighborhood bars were still open, and a few people sat inside. I peeked inside the window to see what they had on TV, which for some weird reason I like doing whenever I pass by.

I stuck around to catch a few minutes of what was on. It always cheers me up, and it gave me a chance to rest up for a brief moment. As I entered the second half of the trip home, I thought back to all the times I’d considered something like this, but never followed through. I used to feel like a failure because of it, but now I feel like maybe it wasn’t the right time. I wanted to check the step counter I have on my phone, but decided against it until I got home. No surprise I’d exceeded my step count by a long shot.

Photo resized courtesy of Promo.

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