See My Friends

Good news: I can sleep in a real bed tonight, care of my traveling companion for the moment.

I had stepped off a bus and was wondering if I should take my chance here at finding a place to sleep or take another bus to another bus stop, when I saw that someone was trying to talk to me. I told him to piss off.

Instead of doing that (as a sensible person would), he instead said something else. And it looked as if he has said the word 'running,' so I finally pulled down my headphones and said, "What?"

"I said, 'Are you running from something?'"

I looked at him. He looked young, maybe nineteen or twenty perhaps. His face was thin, with a faded x-shaped cut on it, and he had brown shaggy hair. The one thing that struck me, however, was that he was holding a wooden staff. And there was only one person I knew who owned a staff, let alone walked around with one: the Wanderer (or Kenny, I guess I should call him).

After our awkward introductions (my fault, I guess, for picking a masculine sounding name), he said that he knew a place where I could stay.

I weighed my options - stay here and possibly sleep in another parking garage or trust another runner and sleep in a real bed? Well, since I'm currently on a bus on the way to the Wanderer's friend's house, you can guess which option I chose.

I'm a little nervous, I'll admit. It's been a while since I've really been around people - stayed around people, that is. I tend to keep in my own little world. I'm not really at being social.

But I can try, if it means sleeping inside, where it's warm.