I walk a path I know well

I stride in large steps along a path I know well

To work, a lecture, school,

A walk with the dog.

How much time do I have available?

20 minutes?

Half an hour?

45 minutes?

5 minutes?

Certainly too little.

I quicken my pace.

In my thoughts, I am already where I want to arrive.

What kind of surface lies beneath my feet?

Black asphalt,

Dry and uncommunicative;

it absorbs energy,

radiates heat into the already scorching summer air;

stains snow in record time,

painfully scrapes skin when falling

…

I pour the full weight of my body into it

From one foot to the other

Right foot, then left

Right heel, outer edge of the foot, then toes

For a moment I am on the toes of my right foot before the left heel takes over.

Each step is a balancing act between falling and restoring balance once again.

A moment in between;

a moment of uncertainty;

leaving the familiar

for the unknown.

Even though in my thoughts I am already where I need to arrive, it is uncertain how this step will end.

The 26 bones of the foot balance the weight of the entire body.

Just for a moment, I will slow down

Sink into the melted asphalt

and grow a little taller.

Recorded by: Zrinka Šimičić