Thoughts while walking home av Tänker

I am walking home. It’s early September, around 9.30 pm so it’s already dark. The evening breeze still carries some summer warmth. The world is still. It’s Friday, but the people are elsewhere. The world feels calm, as if there was only me in it. I feel peaceful - for a while.

I walk through an alley with trees lining the sides. A lone streetlamp, one of those older ones with a little hat on top, lights up my path. If I look up into the treetops as I walk by I can pretend I am in Narnia.

I remember why the dark scares me. A girl got assaulted on this street last year. It has a lot of dark corners. I walk in the middle of the road where it is the lightest. I know I’m not supposed to; this is a road for cars. It feels reckless and safe all at once. Not many cars drive here anyway. I feel like I’m on the cover of some indie band’s album.

I repeat the safety tips I know in my head. My friend lives over there. Go for the throat or the groin to get a head start. It’s not far, you can make it. Yell fire, not help, if they get you. I instinctively close my fist around my keys in my pocket. This is a quiet part of town, I remind myself. I can’t help but imagine it anyway. It happens to everyone sooner or later, they say. It’s best to be prepared.

It’s funny how this was all forest once. Now there’s rows and rows of lights in the windows of the little boxes we call home. Imagine how dark it would be without them. If I try hard enough I can see the trees growing around every corner like they used to. Leaves that rustle in the wind. How it would be full of life - not just human.

My neighbors have a little fir tree in their front yard. They decorate it with lights around Christmas. I think about the forest as I pass. It feels out of context beside the rows of
flowers. Misplaced in a pretty garden. It feels like a relic. Like dinosaur bones in a museum. Placed outside of its time, tried to be made sense of. It must be lonely to be a tree in a garden.

There’s the light of home. I’m home now. No more time to be philosophical.