I need to go for a walk to clear my mind of Thanksgiving and Black Friday. I need to go for a walk in the crisp, clear, clean night air of Puyallup. I need to bounce some ideas about "Cutting In" around in my brain.
The evening is cold. The sky is partly cloudy, with the moon and stars peeking through and the warmth of the day fleeing toward the heavens. Condensed moisture is forming frost on any available surface—car windows, fences, lawns, walkways.
I am walking through a town that is heading toward slumber. Restaurants are closing up. The bars are fairly quiet. Puyallup Police vehicles are patrolling about, and a Washington State Patrol car is momentarily parked on Fourth Avenue. A few "rabblerousing" teens on skateboards and bikes are heading home.
The cold begins to bite into my flesh, through my sweatpants and sweatshirt. I arrive home with the Weekly Volcano in hand to a silent house, where the wife, the child, the cat, and the cockatiel are all asleep. I settle into my wingback chair, pick up Moby-Dick, and begin to read.
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