Adventure Time

It's not really that I want out- it's plenty nice inside. It's really just that I had an impulse to run, and I figured, why not? I'm on vacation- I can do what I want.  So now, here I am, feet pounding on the condo sidewalk, with my wavy hair, red tips in my face. It's not cold down here in the desert. This part looks more like a suburb with its concrete, orderly structures, and paved roads. I haven't been going for longer than a minute before I reach the place where the wire is barbed and the cars change to trucks that read things like, "Dixie Waste" and "U-Haul." I stop, looking over the red rocks and the odds and ends of construction materials that call my name. My finger touches the point to the wire, like Aurora reaching out to change her fate. I walk down the length of the fence, pulling thorns from my bare feet and plastic bags from the rusted wire. When I finally reach the end of the empty place, I cross to the sidewalk, back to the imitation suburb. I notice a trail of rocks, and I hop from stone to stone. It's slower and hurts a little more. As I cross the rough patch, something profound comes to me. If the rocks are like troubles, and the sidewalk like ease, they both have adventure to be found. As long as I walk across the troubles slowly,  they can't hurt me. I giggle. I don't think it's profound, just me being me- histrionic and adventurous. I walk- slowly, now- back to the condo, to make it home in time for dinner. My timing is perfect, and that inspires a silly thought. Maybe the Universe is rooting for my adventures. Maybe the Universe thinks it's adventure time, too.