the meteorite is just what we see

I was walking and the street was open, clear of people and disturbances, a solitary cat crossed up ahead. The streetlights there flickered in the usual orange, the ground was wet. I felt like I was swimming; the cool breeze was moving and I was moving with it.

Three blocks down I could still feel the heat from the room I was once in. I could still see the light and the people sitting across from me. Every step moved me in no one direction; I was standing still as I crossed the next block. The sky through the clouds was separated.

That night was for walking away from things I had done. It was for the movement captured only by the simplest words.