I wanted to run my fingers thru her hair, wipe away the stain her sorrow ridden tears left on her face long ago. I wanted her to understand that I don't think we're all fools. I mean, I think we are, but I don't believe it. But before I even came up with the thought of saying something she was moving, moving on. Only a block left. And she's waiting for me at the door.

"You want to wait for me?"

but why would she want me outside as she shops. The sounds of this busy street are eerie and noisy. But distant in my ears. Background, and only she is singing. Oh.

"You're getting something from the feminine isle huh?"

No deception on her behalf, that must be it.

"Nooo... I just remember that you're not overly fond of all the people" All the bloody minds at work, thinking and scheming their next meal, their next fuck, their next car, or house, or anything else that requires a loan.

"People..." Just barely passing my lips. Or did it? I may have sucked it back in before it escaped. God I hate people. I barely put up with myself. I'm trying not to look around, or twitch. I'm trying not to let my nerves show. Is this why she brought me here? To remind me what vile little shits this world is full of?

I peek into the windows.

It looks like something out of The Chocolate Factory. Little Oompa Loompa's running around pouring flour, sugar, and god knows what chemicals into their carts, controlled by whom?

They're captivating.

An ant farm.

A military march.

Fucking Lord of the dan...

"Ok, I'm ready, lets head back."

It seems that time is so pointless to try to measure or control, so I won't even ask how long I've been watching people, like a toddler afraid everyone's after his lolly.

Why did I even leave my safe little house? My safe putrid little house. Ever been given two choices, both so perfectly undesirable that you were pissed just for having to choose? I think that’s where I am now.

"We can stop at the graveyard, I bought some picnic foods."

Ahh, a much better choice than home or here. I don't have to explain why I love the graveyard. The dead simply speak slower than the living, and are fairly uninterested with fucking you over. So I nod, as grateful as one can look with a nod and follow her.
Step. Step. Step. Try to stay in line. Step.
I am so amusing to myself. There she flows, as if not even walking, and I'm trying desperately not to fall over in glee.

These gates are so wide, so tall. I wonder who they are trying to keep out?
Each angel on the sides of the gates are casting a long shadow. Time is passing. I'm sure she's not pleased by this, tho she always did enjoy a sunset. It was as if a rebirth to her. Like another day had started. When do we sleep? Crucifixes and engraved scenery all surround me. I am awestruck. Gentle breeze, and you can almost smell the peace in rotting flesh.

Peace.

When do we ever sleep.

To my left an elderly woman is laying roses by a grave. Her sons. Yes I'm sure of it. He died in some war. She’s still not over it. She still holds him in her heart and head every night, and he can never be at peace until she sleeps.

Grapes.
One in my mouth.
Sweet and wet.

"I knew you'd like them"

she always knows.

"Sit by me, watch this sunset." An offer far to inviting to pass.

Cresting the hills, like a crown sinking into the sea. Almost mournful, almost happy as she watches it fall.

"Sleep lover, for a few hours we will see each other again, anew, each day brings hope with irony. Tho we cheat at night. I with the moon, and you with your stars, we will be one tomorrow when we both rise."