Trudging Home From Tesco's

Trudging home from Tesco's, desiccated leaves crunching underfoot like wasted lives, I overheard clamorous shouts emanating from a distant rugby match, its participants presumably immersed, if briefly, in a shared reality even more surreal than mine.

In mine, escape is something purely theoretical, like equal rights for all, or the existence of extra-terrestrial life.

And yet, beyond all else, and in straight defiance of both empirical logic and experience, escape is everything I seek, and perhaps, when all the chaff is abandoned, the only thing worth seeking.