Too damn stuffy to stay inside that day; she needed to get out and think. 
Not about anything in particular really, just think and relax. It wasn't exactly 
a walking day though. Gray, clouded skies and a very slight but cool breeze. 
It made the city downright depressing. Ah well, she thought, a walk she needed 
so a walk she would take.  The door locked automatically behind her as 
she left her apartment.
	There were very few people out, for obvious climatic reasons, but the few 
who did venture outdoors were the hearty-types that lived and breathed the 
city. Her boots made empty thuds on the cracked sidewalk and the complete 
lack of hair on her head caused it not to blow in the breeze that circled through 
the maze of buildings.  This wind seemed confused, like it was used to 
wide-open spaces and now that it had been forced into the tight, confining 
spaces of the city it really didn't know what to do with itself. It just darted in and 
out of each crevice and doorway until it met in dizzy piles atop the streets. It made 
her face chill and her eyes water. Too many thoughts buzzing through her head.
	She made her way down the street until it came to an intersection at which point 
she turned and walked down a dirt path that went passed some of the more 
downtrodden homes. It made her feel just that much more selfishly better about her 
own dwelling to see some of lesser quality, so she usually made a point to pass them. 
There was a man hovering in a nearby alley. He was talking to a small, scantily 
clad woman while he leaned against the wall in just the right position to not let the 
woman pass (had she wanted to, which, by the look of things, she did). The breeze stopped.
	She hurried by, passed the homes and passed a half-grass field. Some kids were 
playing baseball with a stick and a rock and using pillows for bases on a field strewn 
with glass and nails. The kid up to bat swung and hit the rock at bullet-speed 
right towards her. She ducked just in time for it to whiz over her head and 
land in the grass behind her.  
		Eventually, she came to the place that she always came to for thinking. 
It was a corridor of sorts, formed because of two old train bridges built perpendicular 
of each other over pavement that had grass creeping up through it. Every 
20 minutes the train would come barreling across one of the bridges; the other 
one was out of use. She wrapped her jacket around her a little more tightly. 
No reason really, it hadn¼t gotten any colder than before. The ledge on which 
she always sat appeared to her sight from behind shadows and she plopped 
down onto it and swung her head back to let it rest on a pillar. The smell of trash 
and the river floated through her nostrils. That nasty, pungent smell that comes 
after a rain that causes water and rubbish to mix.
	What could I do? What next? Who was that guy? Who were those children? 
Why am I here? Why is there a hole in my boot? The thoughts intermingled in 
her head. Bored, she picked at the patch on her coat. It said "Mean People Suck." 
Man, the number of different comments she'd gotten from people on possible 
meanings of that patch. Leaning further back, she stared up at the underside 
of the bridge. The train would be through soon. There was water dripping down 
the rusty beams of the structure and it formed in dirty puddles on the pavement. 
Mosquitoes would be breeding there as soon as the bad weather skipped 
town and the sun finally came out.  Her mind kept avoiding thinking about 
the important stuff.  It was too tedious.
	The train came thundering through right on time and right over her. The bridge 
shook and creaked under the pressure. Bits of broken off metal and rust tumbled 
from the heights and onto her head before she could get her hood up for 
protection. Wiping away the bits from her stubbly scalp, she finally tackled the 
subject that was on her mind. Of course, not for more than three seconds.
	The trance that had come over her snapped loose as the sounds of screaming 
echoed through the dank air. Her eyes shot open; they had been closed? The 
woman in the alley? She jumped to her feet and walked quickly towards the sound. 
Maybe she shouldn't get involved. Maybe it would be dangerous. Oh hell, someone 
was in trouble. What if it was you that was screaming?
	The alley was empty, but the screams continued, short, but sharp and terrified.  
Well, where were they coming from? Her glance darted to every dark threshold and alley. 
	"Ack...screw this city!" she said out loud but quietly. "Screw it for all its' murders, 
rapes, and kidnappings! Screw it for all the robberies and con-jobs and smoke-puffing 
politicians!" She shoved her hands into her pockets and continued searching, 
now more frantically, for the origin of the shouting. No one was out. Perhaps it was 
happening indoors? Should she be that nosy? She began peeking into the 
lower windows of the homes. Nothing.
	The screaming got a little softer. She stopped in her tracks and looked in every direction. 
Then, she found the source. The sliding door window of an apartment was open, 
revealing a TV that was on with no one watching. The scenes of a horror film flew 
across the screen. Some lady was being chased by a cheesy monster with a zipper 
going up his back. Wouldn't that be nice.
	Grumbling softly to herself, she headed back to her apartment. A few more souls 
were out walking now and the baseball game was over. A car rumbled down the 
street, hurriedly turned a corner and disappeared.  The steps up to her apartment 
sat in front of her, but she just leaned on the rail and stared across the street at 
nothing. A little old man swept the rotting leaves from the walkway in front of his store.  
Monsters with zippers. Now that would be convenient. It would certainly make things 
much more easy.
	He left because of the hair thing. What a ridiculous thing to stop a relationship for! 
Maybe it was just an excuse for something more though.  She laughed and picked at 
her fingernails. An uneasy subject when it involved criticizing yourself.  It was stupid 
to think about it now. She was hungry, she could feel her stomach gurgling. Oh good, 
she thought, leftover Chinese in the refrigerator.  She hoped it hadn't gone bad.