Susie Carlton looks down when she walks. She takes care to not accidentally trod on an ant and though she delights somewhat the crunch of a dried leaf under her foot, she disallows herself the pleasure. To step upon the fallen, she thinks it cruel. Susie Carlton does her best to create and cause less mess and invasion during her time on Earth. She struggles with her carbon footprint, deliberates her actions and what they mean in the scheme of greenhouse gases; she walks where she can, and she harbours little thought and care for plastic and yet, she’s a fan of books and therein the paper use and the inherent loss therein of trees, and rainforests and Susie Carlton looks down when she walks. She keeps her head down as she power walks along streets; occasionally however, getting a little lost in the light upon the leaves high up amongst the trees. She’s a conundrum. She veers and steers herself amongst the throngs of people – careful to not butt shoulders, weary of going across the current. She never really knows where she’s heading, she just picks a direction, and she goes. Completely certain and yet entirely uncertain. Susie Carlton looks down when she walks. Imagining the footprints she’ll leave behind, the stories and the eulogies she may deserve. She wonders about the universe and existence as she skips a little to the right or to the left to avoid scurrying ants, and yet there are moments – one too many – where she has had the crunch of a snail beneath her foot and the guilt weighs heavy on her. Heavily so on her. She spends time too long in a supermarket. Deliberating which product would be both beneficial to her health and cause the least amount of harm to Mother Earth. She looks down as she walks and wants nothing more than to stop, than to take pause by the beach and sit by the shoreline where the gentle waves will wash against her and if she be so lucky, they might take her beyond and away on its currents. Every action and every choice has a consequence; she frets over which is the lesser of the evils and she wonders if her living, her life, is an inherent inconvenience to nature. At the end of it all, she’ll be fertilizer and yet – through it all, during it all, how much damage can she, will she, must she, cause? Susie Carlton looks down when she walks but she’s not sad, not really. She’ll live out her days as intended, as she intends, and she’s comforted by the very end that’ll draw sooner near. It’s tiresome. To care.

Susie Carlton looks up. Away from the sand all over her toes. The Sun’s beginning to set and she’s ready to live out her last tomorrow.

Looking down and growing up.

(478)