I walked tonight; upon streets that haven’t seen the soles of my feet for more than a decade. There’s something about putting one foot in front of the other, a simple act, a balancing act, a controlled fall between points. The pavement was glossy from fresh rain and the sky a polished sheet of glass.

Stars glowed and my breath plumed. It was a night for walking. A night to move. A night to feel alive through the simple act of falling between points.

I saw a shooting star – a seam in the sky, closed as soon as it appeared. I remembered a falling star from the same decade before; one so close that I could see smoke from its tail and hear the roar of its flame.

The star tonight was distant, and no star at all… just a rock in the sky… a rock turned memory and smoke.