My Secret Hiding Place

Around the university there is an alley that I call my secret hiding place. There is nothing secret about it; you just need to walk a few feet away from the entrance door, and it will be in plane sight, yet nobody seems to care there actually is another path to reach the campus beside that crowded, noisy lane everybody seems to be deeply interested in.

Whenever I feel misanthropic and dealing with people becomes too much, I run to my save haven. It is such a quiet place that it is almost surreal. Sure, every now and then cars pass by, and I see some pedestrians once in a while, but there seems to be an unspoken rule that nobody should make a noise.

The alley is wide, and the mighty trees of the autumn stand tall, their heavy branches bending, trying to reach the ground to get free of the restraint they have been bound in from birth. The fallen leaves dance with the rhythm of the wind, and I feel a shiver down my spine.

I walk along the alley, careful not to make a noise to disturb the silence. I think about everything and nothing at all and stare at the tall, dark colored buildings, wondering if they know how I feel. Sometimes I feel like one of them; surrounded by so many like me, yet alone.

My feet carry me to the stone stairs of the park at the end of the alley. They're wide and clean as if they are the stairs of a grand castle. The park is small and the highway can be seen in front of it. It is as if the park is the end of the world where serenity ends and reality begins.

There is nothing unique about the park; there are a few trees here and there and some benches that are colored red, green and orange with shiny paints. Nobody walks in there except a gardener in green that mows the yellow loan from time to time.

In the corner of the misshaped park, there is a slide for children. I calmly walk there and sit on the small steps, turning my back on the park. I rest my chin on my hands and stare at blue sky, the white clouds and the gray asphalt, the trees and the people that pass by. They do not notice me, but I watch them carefully, trying to understand what is going on in their minds. They look so busy that most of them do not even notice the park.

A glance at my old watch reminds me that my time is up. I stand up, wipe the dust from my clothes and walk back to the campus, to people and to everything that seems to matter.