Do you remember when you used to blow bubbles when you were young?
Well, I ran into him and he said to say ‘hello’. Ha. Got ya.
My wife has told me this joke for years and years and it took a long time for me to not get caught within it.
I smiled as I thought about that joke as I walked the environs of St, John’s Wood.
It was late, it was dark. I couldn’t sleep again, so I left and started walking.
Walking past the park, in and around the high street.
As I passed the park and its wrought iron fence I remember a story of a man who tried to jump the fence, right here, late after a night at the pub. He made it halfway over. Then the pointed, triad spear atop the picket pierced his left thigh and severed his femoral artery.
He was stuck. He hung there and bled out.
I wondered what thoughts were racing through his mind as his blood drained from his body and he slowly got cold and lost consciousness. Was he scared? Did he have regrets?
I wasn’t jumping the fence I decided.
I heard steps. Steps that matched my own, almost, not exactly but enough to make me concerned. Who was that? Who was out this late and walking the same meandering path I was walking?
I stopped.
The steps stopped too. What the fuck?
I kept walking, maybe a little faster, with a little more energy in the gait. Maybe? Hard to know in the dark.
It was then I realized that the steps were actually mine…there was a nervous person walking ahead of me. I was the following steps creeping me out. How can that be? Yikes, I am tired.
He, she, they turned around. I couldn’t see a face. Still very dark. They wore a hoodie.
They certainly did seem more panicked as they walked towards Regent’s Park, I thought.
I considered that joke again and smiled. Not this time.
I started to run.
Blue side up amigos.