Traveling at Mach 0.012

Out the door and into the dark.  No iPod tonight, just the sounds surrounding me.  

Cars hurrying by; jets overhead.  I go deeper into the darkness of the running route that is so familiar.

Picture the sounds.  

Foot strikes on pavement, on asphalt, dry leaves, wet leaves, sandy path with that gritty sound, bricks, sticks, wooden deck, stairs and a metal grate.  

Wind rustling in the trees.

Water lapping onto the shoreline.

Concentrating on the footsteps. 

Thirty minutes to lose myself from the grind of the day. Then, metal on metal and the heavy door screeching as it swings open.  

I miss the sounds already.