Under the scorching heat of the sun, I make my way through the path I know so well. It has only been two months since I started going back and forth this same way, but it feels as if it’s been centuries. I know where the next fall will be, I know when the grass path is about to end. I know that when I see the star- like glow on my left at night a mud puddle is right in front of me.

Every morning, noon, or night, right before dragging my feet through this four hundred meter dirt road that separates my home from the rest of the world, I dread it. I dread it like a child dreading bath time right before bed. Like a prisoners new day in the roster. Like a nerd entering the halls filled with bullies. Like a teacher who’s stuck in his routinary rut of a life.

Though I dread it before I make my first step I know dreading and whining all day by my lonesome self is not going to get the job done. And as soon as my foot takes that first step, I catch myself daydreaming and my mind wandering about the most random of things. When I awake myself from the fantasy that was my dream I realized I made it all the way across and I did it with ease. I actually enjoyed the trip. It relaxed me, it relaxed my mind. Though I feel the sweat slowly sliding down my navel and see the dust drifting off the top of my sneakers, somehow this dreadful tiring 5 minute walk is what I need a little more often.