The night I ran away from home.
It was a summer night. A summer night in Poosah City.
Summer nights in Poosah City -- the air is thick, after the day's heat, seemingly cool. Muggy with moisture and smells of life, the sounds of crickets fill the night with their rhythms of delight.
My parents were filling my night with the sounds of their fight.
What the fight was about? I guess maybe it was me.
Or maybe it was money
Or, the time he said.
Or, the time she said.
Or, "I was laying there for you to come to me all night."
Or, "I don't want my wife out fugging on the beach.", "I didn't do anything", "So, why were you swimming in the moonlight?"
Or, "You said I killed my wife!", "I only said that if you treated her the way you treated me she would have wanted to die."
Or, "You might as well take two dollars and throw it out on the street!"
On and on and on and on and on and on it always went...
Suddenly, I realized I wasn't there -- or at least it didn't matter.
More for the skeeters than the night's relative cool, I pulled on a light jacket.. I ran out the door, unnoticed. out into the night, into the streets of night, alone.
I've been running, running, running ever since.
I've been running away almost all of my life,
from what I have never been able to face.
However fast I have run, I hear steps just behind,
just as fast as my own and always so close!
In fact, much closer, much nearer than close!
The footsteps I hear, in fact, are my own!
For me, it is now the late afternoon,
perhaps evening, perhaps dusk...
If I turn around now, can I face myself?
Will I finally find someone I can trust?