So I Walk... | Teen Ink

So I Walk...

December 16, 2010
By Anna Herrick SILVER, Olathe, Kansas
Anna Herrick SILVER, Olathe, Kansas
8 articles 0 photos 0 comments

On this rainy Thursday night I venture out into the brisk, damp air of an early fall rainstorm. The sky is a dirty brown due to the recently set sun and the black sky laying down upon the Earth. So I walk...

The moon is out there somewhere, but nothing can be seen through the thick, murky rainclouds that cover the vast sky. So I walk...

The shiny puddles beneath my feet reflect back at me as I walk through them, careful to not get splashed. But nonetheless, as soon as I lift my foot, the muddy droplets spring back up and soak the back of my jeans. So I walk...

Crabapples and bush berries roll on the pavement as I walk past them. I remember collecting the same fruit many years before and tricking my younger sister into eating the bitter apples for a snack. The sour, tangy, distinct taste could dry out your mouth for hours. So I walk...

I pass my neighbor's climbing tree, now towering above me, and recall the summer afternoons where I would read all day on the thick branches, until the owner came and yelled at me to get down. My sister and I would stay in the tree for hours, constantly challenging each other to climb higher. So I walk...

Occasionally I will hear a cricket sound, but not many are out on this particular night. The pattering sound of water dropping down the sides of houses and flowing down the black street echoes through the air. So I walk...

Cold raindrops hit my face as I run back to my house. It rains harder and harder until I have to close my eyes in order to not be stung by the piercing drops. As I blindly make my way back, I am not worried about getting lost, for my feet know the way. They have travelled this route many times before. So I walk...

I slow my pace as I near my house. I am already soaked, so there is no use running now. Before I know it, I am on my front porch, now shielded from the biting rain. I look back at my cul-de-saq and see the familiar grooves of old cement fill up with water to create the puddles I once played in. I am reminded of the many memories I made on this street. So I walk...


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