Pushing the Borderline. Chapter 3

What this dude did not know was what lay ahead but he kept on walking.
Wallowing in the tristesse of self pity, lay not for him.
There she was, sitting in the top of the fig tree throwing fruits down at him. She shook the bough above her and the fruits came cascading down like hail, hitting the hard and dusty ground like whiplashes in the air.He wanted to cover his ears from the deafening raucous but he just continued walking. He wasn’t going to wait for a bus that never would come. He was cool. Buses didn’t come just because one wanted them to, there wasn’t even a bus shed or a stop sign. Who in darnation expected a bus to come hereby. Anyway he was walking and the inkling in his thoughts gave him a strange sense of prediction- as though he already knew what lay ahead. It was not difficult to imagine. All you had to do was remember the stories, recall the sounds and smells that were implanted in your senses and still the experience would be unique.
In broad daylight he thought of the frequency of stars on a dark, slightly clouded sky. Without lampposts they would be easy enough to see.
As a rambler of both body and mind there was no reason for anyone to be accompanying him.
His wish was that he have no effect or influence on others than himself- this could be very trying for him as well as for others and really he wasn’t up to it- he was a little tired of it actually.
All he did not wish to know cropped up some way or other. He didn’t fear the future, he had forgotten the unimportant parts of the past and the present was a series of experiences and events he one by one left behind.
What made him move forth was a power he, as a loner, had all for himself. It lay within him, some resource of unknown origin- almost an instinct.