The Wandering

Flash fiction, maybe a bit poetic

March 16, 2015

The doors open.

They flush out, step by step, angling themselves and off they go. Those wandering folk. No one knows where they are going; no one has stopped one to ask. They just go away into the dusk and moonlight that awaits at the end of the stairs.

The sound of lousy footsteps fill the space in a closed, off-set way, reminding you that they aren't normally there—only when they wander.

They shift and slide easily in between each other, not worrying about losing their grip or missing a step. They all know where to go, but where that is, is a good question. They follow the orders of an unseen thing, an uncalled judge they do not question, but follow, and wander towards day after day.

It's not our place to ask why; they should not be stopped in their paths. Their clothes blend together in clumsy, haphazard ways, the motions all different, yet all to the same end, following the paths laid out for them by a clock they cannot hear.

They can all look in front of them, but no one sees what is happening ahead, the walking and shuffling they must do, leaves them no time to wonder about their surroundings. They can only wander and wander and wander along their treaded paths, seeing the moonlight and the sun swirl around them in motions far slower than their own, but still they see it all from the same angles and the same perspectives every day as they exit the doors and wander and leave.

They are not to be understood, they are to be followed. They are not new or ending, they are to be expected.

The Wandering is not one to question, it is one to walk with.


I have, since an old story I wrote back in elementary school, been fascinated by the idea of people that walk. It can either be for no reason, or because they cannot stop, but I still vividly remember the idea I had back then of people just walking because they had to--and I found it oddly compelling. (I have tried to see if I could find that story because I actually really like it but I have been unable to find it yet :( )

This piece is a bit of a side-step from that story, but I still rather like it, even if I don't really know what purpose it serves, other than being an observation of people who walk. I guess that's enough, sometimes.