At The End of the Sidewalk

My belief is firm. God has always had His hand on me. I’ve survived many traumas. Abandoned as an infant. Shot in the head at twenty. Addicted to drugs for 20 years. Addicted to love for 20 more. 

At the beginning of this healing story, I find my inner child trapped at the end of the sidewalk. The sidewalk leads away from sadness, loneliness, and seven brands of fear. His arms crossed. Anger and defiance locked behind scrunched eyebrows. His eyes dart back and forth as his mind checks off a list of possible escapes. None of them lead to relief, security, or safety. Would he even recognize safety if it called his name? 

There is a man that watches him from a distance. The man recognizes the boy’s pain and is moved to tears. He identifies with his own pain and loneliness. He wants to wrap the boy in his arms and tell him it is going to be alright. But when he tries to approach, he can see the boy’s distrust is apparent by his frantic rechecking of his surroundings. So the man stops his advance and asks, “Are you OK?”

The boy just closes one eye and tilts his head, as if squinting will give him greater focus. The man asks, “Where are your parents?”

The boy grunts a simple “hmmm!”

“Are you lost?”

This time the boy shakes his head, “No!”

“Where do you live?”

He turns around and looks back up the sidewalk. 

Media: At The End of the Sidewalk, Created by The Author using Midjourney AI Art Generator