Monday, October 6

The Men Who Walk

Each one of us has a place in the world, what someone might call our station in life. My own is with those who would rather walk — i mean both the poor and such old-world relics as the ascetic, the wanderer and the street vendor. Like them even i am a great walker and would go on foot even though i had a ride waiting, alone or in company, over long distances or short, in rain or sunshine, through the dust laden atmosphere of my adopted city or the clean fresh air of my hometown ... I prefer it to all other forms of transportation, old or new, in the sky or on terra firma. You only need your own set of two feet and little else besides — what could be cheaper or more independent? But above all i prefer it because of, like i said, who i am ... my place. The “shoe” fits right in (or the lack thereof.)

Even at that hour when the grey sky of St. Petersburg is shrouded in total darkness and all its race of officials have dined and sated the...