please change the reel

written from the quick write shadows. have a great weekend! and all my thanks!

Shadows. The shadows grow from the ground, the pavement, the grass into full formed features growing into a person. I look and see. Quickly. Take my diagnosis in and keep walking. Walking. Away. Down. The street. Home. But sometimes its hard to shake the shadows of my neighbors , of my friends. The shadows of people and the what they might do. What they are doing. Makes me want to turn off the film reel in my head. It makes me want to stop seeing. Because once I see. I can't help but think. Think about that shadow of that person. The darkness. The sadness. In what could be.

The other day. I had a day at school. A day full of running up stairs and meeting of kids and learning things I would rather not and keep going up down the stairs across the hall and the listening and supporter of dreaming and planning and shaking of hands and hellos along the way. Hi Ms. B. So as I leave my day. I need some quiet. Some solitude. A pause from the reality that is. And sometimes I get. At a cafe. With a trashy mag and sun beats on my face. Or walking. Walking to the next thing. The world somehow looks different and so am I. In pausing. I see tv slowly around me as I walk into it more real than reality tv or a sitcom crafted. And I don't long to speak to anyone. Which is for me the rarity of all rarities.

As I picked up K from school. From guitar. Excitement to see his face still dosed in exhaustion of giving to others. We walk down the street. Home. To get the car. And I glance ahead and to the left to take in the scene. What me and K with his new glasses and guitar upon his back might be walking into. I see a group of man on the corner. Typical for my hood. And as I glance to my left. I see a shadow. A shadow of a man. A glimpse of a family. The woman seems upset and is lifting her child up the stairs who still resides in a stroller. She is speaking to her husband or boyfriend. Some reassurance. I look to this shadow of a man. And he has a knife open. Open in his right hand. He is upset. I look once and twice. And his shadow is growing. Growing on his porch with his family. In front of his house. My face might not have stayed street. I tried not to look shocked that on a Tuesday afternoon most people hang with their fam with a knife open. All I know is get out of here fast. For K is attached to my arm.

So we walk hard around the corner. He didn't see the shadow. But I did. I exhale once we turn the corner. Open the car. K runs to the car. I get in. And sit there. I didn't want to see what I just saw. I never what to see it. The shadow of a person's potential haunts me. I close my eyes. Breath from the bottom of my legs. And turn the ignition. And keep going. Going home.