I walked through the streets, limping from a damaged shoe heel.

I smelt everything around me and reached for the smells in the air.

I remembered things I couldn't remember having remembered before.

I was drunk.

My seeing ride had gotten tired of me and gone home hours ago.

I'd misplaced my watch.

But I was going home.

I knew where home was. It rarely shifted it's position. I was the thing that couldn't sit still.
I stepped off the curb at the corner where the lampstand was bent and the concrete was chipped right by the crosswalk ramp.

I felt the sun on my skin of the day I discovered that chip and tumbled a little.