I went for a walk

I have taken to walking, each morning and each evening. It has become part of my routine, fitting seamlessly into my life – it has come to be something I cannot live without. I walk alone, sometimes, it makes me feel small and scared, but I know I am alive.

I look over my shoulder. One, two, three, four, five; look over your shoulder. No one is behind you, no one is in front of you, keep walking. One, two, three, four, five; look over your shoulder. I repeat this action, over and over, like a nervous tick. I feel the gravel beneath my feet, the hole in my shoe granting entrance to small bits of dirt that rattle around between the sole and my sock. The earth is red, it will stain my socks. The sun is sitting high in the sky, beginning its slow descent toward the horizon. I feel its heat above me, warming my head and shoulders, I dare not look unto it. The sun heats the red earth, the warmth radiates up toward me, I can feel my face turning red – like the earth, like my socks.

One, two, three, four, five; look over your shoulder. No one is behind you, no one is in front of you, keep walking. I lost myself in this feeling, the warmth, the gravel, momentarily forgetting I am unsafe in this world. One, two, three, four, five. One, two, three, four, five. There is a gentle breeze, it dances on my skin, it tickles and cools me. The trees are alive in it, moving around me and above me, a striking green against the deep blue sky. I dare not look unto the sun. One, two, three, four, five, look over your shoulder.

The movement of the trees and bushes around me starts to feel sinister, maybe the wind is playing a trick on me, what does the greenery hide? Does it conceal a man, waiting to prey on me? An animal, looking for a meal in the dry weather? I check over my shoulder, with the wind rushing in my ears I now scan the bushes to my sides, head darting in every direction; hoping to catch an assailant off guard. I am alert.

One, two, three, four, five. One, two, three, four, five. I feel small, against the wind, the sun, and the earth, I am tiny. The earth is moving around me, moving under me, moving with me, moving through space and I am scared. I am small and I am scared. The trees loom overhead, reaching towards the unknown of the universe, the sun beats down on me reminding me of my own vulnerability, the wind makes everything around me dance, mocking me. I make a beeline for the suburb I know is hiding just behind the tree line. One, two, three, four, five. One, two, three, four, five. My feet find the cement path, trees are replaced with houses, but the sun is just as hot, the breeze just as cool – the gravel in my shoe hurts.

I can hear my shoes on the pavement, my breath is loud and uneven, as I make my way through the suburb, I see other people walking. This image calms me, there are people to bear witness to my existence. I see women, like me, repeating one, two, three, four, five; look over your shoulder. Constantly scanning their surroundings for danger. Men, walk aimlessly, unaware of their surroundings, oblivious to danger. Heads buried in their phones or focussed on the dog trotting beside them.

One, two, three, four, five; who is that behind me?