I wasn’t sure how long I had been walking. I could have measured the distance in how much my feet hurt. I had walked far enough that there were no longer any familiar streets. I only met strangers who couldn’t manage to spare more than a curious glance before their indifference took over and they hurried along with their own busy lives. That was a couple miles and a few blisters ago.
There were downsides to rash decision-making. That, at least, I had finally learned. Now there was time to think – to reflect on the past few months and how the decisions I had made weren’t the wisest. There was time, and the road, and the steady monotony of putting one foot in front of the other. Time to regret, I suppose. Regretting was hard, though, and I preferred to keep things like regret out of mind. There were more important things to think about, like how much my feet hurt or how hungry I was. Perhaps, if I had thought things out a bit more, I would have run away with a bit of money in my pocket.