Geshito had on texas boots. The black dust of Rajastan filtered the blue light off the boots. He hadn’t cleaned them from his return, and now sitting in a cafe in Sydney, he wondered how far, they had come. His legs felt good, fit, after all the walking, the emerald city, the harbour, the opera house, the sky so bright. His girlfriend Hamiko was busy taking photos, and passing the camera to strangers off the ferry at the Quay to take pictures. Her in front of the bridge clicksh, marine terminal clicksh, Hyatt hotel clicksh. The World the ocean going apartment building was docked large and silent and white, with people streaming across way overhead. Walking had become natural to him over the past year or so, doing around 12km per day, he had managed to blend his interest in the air, the scenery, flowers, grass, wildlife into a blur, for this now had got into his heart. He could not hear his heart beat except when he looked with fondness on his girlfriend. The heart had become like a musical instrument, a metronome, it’s slightly chaotic rhythm had synchronized over time to his feet, so that now his walking, his heartbeat, his mind had got cycles all listed together somehow with happiness. So now sitting down he felt ok in the sunshine at home. Where next should he go walking ? Should he tell his friends ? Should he clean his boots of the dust ?
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