Cars

A Story by Worriedkatt

Just some thoughts

Here I am, in the middle of the road getting whipped savagely by the wind ripped along by oncoming traffic. Some of the passengers look annoyed and angry, others worried. “Why is he there, just waiting? Does he want to end it all? He looks young; surely there must be something better to dedicate his time to? And what if there isn’t? “Their concern is most likely greater than mine in the light of the time I have spent here in the middle of it all. Or am I really in the middle? Would be more correct to say watching from the sideline. Warming the benches and serving my purpose as motivation for others never to end up in a similar way.

All of the passengers have a destination they are heading for, it may have little purpose but they all carry it out all the same. I would hate to differentiate myself from my fellow species. That would be arrogant, but still give some kind of reason for all this. I just miss purpose or perhaps I don’t and simply create dilemmas out of thin air and then stand staring all deer eyed into the headlights, waiting. Once you get off the free way and into a car and start driving it all makes sense I’ve been told. Exploring the possibilities I always hear about. The vast unexplored we all travel until it fails to be unexplored and we die having left our seed behind for remembrance.

Will I ever get off the highway and stop getting passed by on lookers smirking with contempt or escape their painful gaze of pity? I have nothing to offer they who pass me by except questions. Questions that should be clear by now that no one has time to answer in the fear of being late to their destinations. It begins to rain but I stand firm looking straight ahead facing the opposite way from where all the cars travel. The water sprays up and soaks my face and my chest but I feel numb standing there inhaling the musky smell of wet asphalt. The constant feeling of being late lost and out of context is getting old and stale.

I try to reach the car door as one of them passes me by but it slams my knuckle to the side and the pain shots through my hand into my arm. It’s more for show really. The whole trying to catch a ride act. Even though I have no idea who’s the audience I still put on these little performances where I try but I can’t lie to myself good enough to be able to hope. I extend my arm again in a different direction than last time. A car slows down as in a sign of interest but keeps going when seeing me up close. Yes I am rained on I know but your seats should be just fine. This is not exceptional, or only occurs to me. I don’t feel sorry for myself; I am just not sure where to go when I finally get a ride.