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I left my house and immediately took a left, the opposite of where I normally go. What does my muse have in store or me?

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I speak freely o my environment and let slip to my guiding light that I once committed a heinous act of aggression against a garden fixture. I am ordered to make it right.

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Placing the fresh flower on the broken bench.

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I turned off of the road and towards the abandoned golf course. Once trimmed and well-manicured trees lie in a state of disarray and havoc.

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The ornamental grasses have begun to grow rampant. Now they hide coyotes and snakes instead of mischievously concealing golf balls.

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A picture of the stagnant pond. The smell was horrid, and I set off at a run to escape the offensive odor.

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The interface device with my muse. Also, lens flare.

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At this point I turned towards apartments and 1960, a major street that is busy at all times of the day.

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The cart path ran towards the road, inclining downhill at a wild pace.

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As the cart path turned my muse instructed me to turn towards the road and the lights, leaving the familiar flatlands of the course behind.

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A sand trap stood in my way and was easily bested.

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The lights of the apartments began to take on odd colors as I approached, warding me away.

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One last run through the layers of decaying grass.

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This is the final strip of greenery between me and the road. I forged ahead valiantly, as per my Muse's instructions.

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I lay, for a time, in the road in order to know fear. Cars flew past in the opposite lane, but my lane gracefully stayed empty.

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I deeply regret missing the "All F G M" on Su.

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Across the road danced signs of bright colors and flashing lights. They beckoned me closer, but my muse chose a different path. (Also, that place really does have the best donuts)

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Darkened buildings and empty windows greet me as I explore a sidewalk I have never seen before.

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The sidewalk follows the side of a particularly ugly and out of place building.

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The sidewalk abruptly stopped at this door. I left the mystery for another night and turned down "church avenue"

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Churches surround me in the darkness.

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The church where I left my shoes, one a representation of the divine and one of the damned, suspended in a tree. My muse pulls me to investigate their fate.

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I was stopped by a police officer and hid my shining muse for the duration of the conversation. He checked my I.D. and sped off after a few moments of tension. I caught only his tailights.

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I came to the end of Church av. and something bright happened.

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I turned towards a local school yard and passed a fourth church along the way.

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The grass of the school field smelled fresh and clean. I spun.

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After resting at the play ground I set off towards a set of storage buildings, their lights and my muse pulling me ever forward.

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The picture does not do the place justice; rows of red doors sit inside a dimly lit hallway that stretches to infinity.

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Adjacent to the storage building a hotel loomed fromt he darkness. I investigated thoroughly.

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Cars parked perpendicular to each other. Odd.

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I turned into a massive H-E-B parking lot and, reverting to a small child, rode on the back of a speeding cart, much to the delight of my fellow midnight travelers. I waved, they waved. Fun was had.

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A beautiful tree welcomed me back to my neighborhood. It was growing late and my muse could do nothing but pull me homeward as my feet began to fee my nocturnal journey.

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Barefoot.

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My neighborhood feels different this late at night, immersed in the warm presence of my muse yet alone. The only soul awake for miles and yet distinctly in the presence of another.

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At last I found my way home.