As it turned out, the rain had stopped. I walked out beside the marina towards the bridge. If you pick your time right, you're literally walking towards the setting sun which is all very poetic. It was one of those finger-suns where the digits of light stretch out behind clouds, reaching for one last shot at this portion of the earth.
And as I watched the other walkers, the mind of the Very Fat Guy spake:
Those two sure are clinging to each other. I hope they're happy... they look happy.
This guy is carrying a lot of stress.
That's not a dog, it's a large hairy rodent.
That one is in serious need of a hug. Wish I could help, sorry, they arrest you for stuff like that.
It's getting cold.
I shouldn't daydream about her so much. It can't be healthy. It'd probably creep her out if she knew.
And yet... what if the daydreams are what's keeping me going? Tricking the Fat Guy mind into maintaining lots of serotonin at the synapses.
I wish I knew what she was thinking.
Turn back. Remember, you have to cover all this distance on the way home again.
Oh well... maybe a few more minutes won't hurt.
It was dark by the time I got home, feeling strong.
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