The Alley part 4
In the morning, I wake up and wonder what I will do that day. I cannot recall dreaming. I stretch my arms above my head and I feel something hard and sharp and metal beneath the pile of coats I was using as a pillow. My skin nearly leaps off of my back and I can’t believe it’s still there, that it was not a dream. I pick up the blade and examine it closely. I slap it’s broad side against the dumpster next to me and it makes a horrible CLLANGGG. I swing the blade edge first into the dumpster and it passes through so easy that at first I think I missed. I look closer and there’s a slice taken out of the rusted green metal. Nothing cuts that easily.
I get to my feet, holding the blade very, very carefully at arm’s length. I take a deep breath and as I exhale, I drop my arm diagonally across a corner of the dumpster. There is no sound until the severed corner hits the ground but my escaping breath.
The noise of the hardened industrial steel hitting the ground like the world’s worst cymbal sends a shock up my spine, sending me on an involuntary leap through the air. I hit the ground running and hide the machete under my coat. After a moment I realize I’m running still, and looking suspicious, and so I turn down a side street and immediately slow my pace. I cross my arms over my chest, the sharp blade of the machete tucked under my coat, under my armpit. I struggle to compose myself and regain my breath.
I find myself eventually heading in the direction of the park. It is a nice day and there are many people about. I keep my head down and avoid eye contact with anyone and it’s as good as if I wasn’t even there at all. No one bothers to look any more, and I don’t blame them. I’m just part of the scenery. This calms me down some, this line of thought.
I make my way to a bench, one of the ones near the tree that blossoms white in the spring time, and I sit. I grip the gilded green handle of the machete tightly under my arm. I feel something like a pulse, but all over my skin, as if I were surrounded by garbage bags inflated with flowing air. I close my eyes, and suddenly, I am seated on the steps of a temple. When I open my eyes, I am still there, and I am once again the samurai.
