How to cross a street
I walked across the street because there was a light that caught my eye.
When I got there, I could not recognize what was around me. There were too many unfamiliar things.
On my left, there was a desert. Two dunes blocked my sight to see what was behind them.
On right, I think I had the Amazonas. Never been there, but the trees, plants and colorful animals made me think I was there.
What else. I looked down and colorful tiles surrounded my feet. They made no pattern in concrete except for a yellow path. It was so short that it soon became every color at once. As if a bad DJ had made that move.
The sky was full of stars where I could immerse my whole arm. I felt my fingertips full of energy whenever I did that. They charged but the tiles blocked to energy when it ran towards my feet.
I got distracted there, immersing both my arm and head a few times. I kept the energy in me. It was strange. I am never carrying that many.
I felt heavy and tired. I wanted to get it out my mouth. I opened it. No sound came out.
I looked back and the sea covered everything that was behind me—if there ever was—before I crossed the street.
Don’t be scared said the Sun. I was not. Why would Sun tell me that? I would only feel scared if I could not walk.
I stepped forward a few times, just to be sure I could walk. I had a choice. I went towards the desert. I prefer dunes over to lions showing me their claws just like the one on the Right Jungle.
It is difficult to walk covered in sand.
I already felt heavy but now I could see what that means. My calves got swallowed. Every time I moved a body part—fingers, ears, tongue—although not covered in sand, felt like that.
I took the wrong choice, kept repeating my head. I insisted on moving my mouth. Still no sound came out.
Something. There has to be something behind those dunes.
I will never be able to walk over them. I could try from under.
Energy served me good. My fingertips dig a resistant tunnel. Heaps of sand got out of my way.
I am almost there
I did not count on one thing
My environment follows my steps.
The ocean fills in the hole I made burying me in there.