A faint echo tried to shatter the still of the autumn night. It was faintly raining; the streets were empty and washed by the dim lights alongside them. It was all so quiet that night, it seemed almost romantic. One of those nights that overwhelm you with that weird urge to run home and be with people you love. Have warm arms around you and a familiar face that greets you at the door, and welcomes you into that private and intimate space where no one else belongs. It was one of those nights, seemingly for everyone else, not for her. She was walking slowly, holding her red umbrella that broke her world's lack of color. She seemed lost, submerged deep into the same old train of thought that would take her nowhere, at least nowhere new to her. Passing by the houses she heard people laughing, saw their shadows passing by the windows. They all seemed surrounded by so much happiness, the kind that to her was now strange and so distant of a memory, she was no longer able to recall. How many times she had been through this? She had lost count, lost count of all the questions that she could never answer, for she was not the one holding all the secrets. It almost amazed her, how was she so week and gave into despair so quickly? How was she so week and left herself to be carried away paddling blindly into a distant dream? It was all nonsense, she knew all that, but to bring herself to look reality in the eye, was a whole other matter. To bring herself to change that reality, it was impossible. Walking the same path every single night for the past years, not only made her remember every detail of it, but she could recall even what she was thinking when she passed by one house or another, one tree or another. It was weird and entertaining when she first realized this, but when days started turning into months and months into years it became sadder and sadder. it was the same path over and over again and the only thing that was changing was only the image that appeared when she looked in the mirror. She was getting older, not old, just older. Her days were diminishing and all she was doing was walking the same path and thinking the same things day after day, over and over again. She passed by a tree and that reminds her of a single thought that she had years ago and fought herself hard to never let it return again. That night she made an exception. The tree reminded her again that she had no roots, not there, not anywhere. She was free to go, free to leave, and never come back. It was a spark of the moment. She didn't even fight herself to kill that small little thought and follow the same path that would lead her home. She entertained it, thinking what bad could it cause, it was just a thought and nothing more. She freed her mind and left it run in never-ending meadows, following streams and butterflies, surrounded by colors and away from that dark place. Holding her umbrella at the tip of her fingers she paced quietly and slowly through the emptied streets. Passed her building entrance and followed to where her feet lead her. With a head full of illusory colors, smells, and sounds she had not heard in years, she left herself free and took the only direction that was in front of her. With a heart full of courage and hope she kept going towards the only destination that would bring her some joy and will to live. Turning back was no longer an option, she had to move forward, she had to leave! As she came closer to the gates, it all grew quieter and quieter. There were no more houses left and right, it was just her, the echo of her steps and the sweet noise the rain droplets would make reaching her umbrella's surface. She reached the gate and her hands started trembling. She remembered from the other time she had been there. It was a night just like this one, just many years ago. The guard opened his little window and brought his face as near as possible to hers!
-Where are we headed at this late-night hour, Miss?
-I decided to leave the city and go live in the mountains near a stream or a lake!
-Is anyone waiting for you on the other side of this gate?
-No, I am all alone and no one is waiting for me even back home.
-That's odd. You have a job am I right?
-Yes, I work as a secretary at the food cans production.
-Well then there you have it. Those people will be waiting for you, not tonight but tomorrow. Don't tell me you will be as selfish as that and leave them waiting without even letting them know where you went and why you left. Don't let confusion guide you, go back home and have a good and long night sleep, when you wake up in the morning it will be the same as it was yesterday, a beautiful day.
-But no one even knows me, and no one will miss me back there.
-That is what you think, but trust me Mr. Tommy will be very worried if you do not show up in the morning and greet him with his newspaper and cup of coffee ready. Margaret will be worried if she doesn't see you eating your lunch at the table right across from hers.
-But Mr. Tommy doesn't even know my name even though I work there for years now, and Margaret never spoke to me or invited me to sit with her when we have lunch.
-Well yes, they may not know your name or want to share their time with you, but you are useful and you have a part to play in the machinery, one that will be difficult to be filled by someone else.
-Difficult? Even a monkey can do what I do!
-Yes, true, but can you even imagine the amount of work and time that would be needed to train a monkey to do what you do? That would be such a waste, don't you think?
-Well, yes. It would be a waste of time and energy I guess.
She stood there looking at his face; he looked the same as he did years ago. His eyes wide open under his thick eyebrows, red flashing checks that did not seem to know what cold was. His heavy and thick mustache would cover almost his whole mouth, moving lifelessness when he talked. It was all the same as if for him not even a day had passed. Her mind went empty for a moment, she went quiet as if all life had left her, turned around and left, not towards the gate, but back home. The way back was different; it was all empty of any thought because there was nothing to plan on. She would go home, eat some food that she had left in the refrigerator the day before, wash her face and her teeth and go to bed. There was nothing new she could be excited about, she would cover herself up under the heavy blanket and try to suffocate the tears that had gathered at the back of her eyes. There was nothing more for her out there, even though she would not be missed by anyone, she could not bring herself to leave. Even though everyone's life would go on all the same without her, she could not abandon them. She had no roots there, but she could not leave even though nothing was holding her. All she could do was just go to bed, wake up in the morning, go to work, smile at everyone, and not even get a smile back and repeat until the end of her days.