Homeless in Paris Homeless in Paris | Page 59

B"H sideshow of the mselves in a strange array to sign my unusual striving using the pedestrian thoroughfares. Here I am crossing streets; fire trucks started to blast their sirens directly alongside of the sidewalk wherever I happened to be; all to make known that my actions were under intense scrutiny. How could people not talk, this was not an everyday occurrence. On one occasion, a few foot-patrol officers aligned the mselves on the path I always tread, so I simply veered to pursue the path of least resistance. I felt a compulsive attraction to the small splotches of grass tha t decorated the sidewalks along the main thoroughfares in Safrascity. I presume they had once been part of the front yards o f the residential neighborhoods. I felt empathy towards the people who had seen the beauty of their residence changed to accommodate auto traffic as the GivMEs' streets were widened. Thusly, instead of walking in the normal stream of passersby's I took to walking along the side of the sidewalk closest to the street, between the curb and the cute little trees' boxes at the outside o f the sidewalk; a certain test of good balance, sometimes doing tightrope style maneuvers balancing myself like a gymnast. Though this caused a stir of people gawking at me, it was not the purpose of my acting strangely. I was at liberty to enjoy my constitutionals and I exerted that right. By speeding up my pace, walking slowly, stretch my legs to take "giant steps," and flayin g my arms hands and fingers in every spatial contingency that I could move the m. Perpetual motion; on the curbs and in and out between trees around la mpposts or pedestrian manifestations that imposed themselves upon my direct path. The target of my energizing happiness is to thrust forth a pulse unto eternity. Reminds me of my visits in the Shabbat atmosphere in once upon a time Jerusale m, whereupon I made a ga me of walking around la mp poles close to th e curb while my children followed closely behind like ducklings cleave to the path of the ir mother duck. Making a determined choice to walk in the middle of the street closed to vehicular traffic in honor of the holy day. By - waves: if you must have an explanation; the way a person interacts with his or her environment during their waking days seems to establish a rhythm in the ir very bones, thoughts of certain sound waves conditions our musculature to aspire to a specified attitude of achievement, not to be confused with the particularly of each of our peculiar gaits. By my daily constitutional nuances, I 59