Dayton decided to go walking at night. Didn't have any destination really in mind. Didn't even remember the last time he even ate. Nancy was out so he didn't have to tell her anything. All he had was his black hoodie and scarf and of course the cold. His jeans could keep the wind at bay and his old snow-boots were wearing thin but at least hadn't let the wet in.
Didn't bother him much the first few miles. Of course, it might help if he knew where he was going. Maybe he was going back to the old place. See if anyone had moved in. Perhaps. Maybe he was going to rob the Quick Shop. He'd watched on the news how somebody came into one with a hoodie on. Guess, they'd find him out if Dayton did something as dangerous with the facial piercings and the gages in his ears. Possibly not the brightest thing to do. Besides, he didn't have a gun. You'd need a gun for something like that.
The saddest thing was about the ordeal on the news, who ever it was had killed the store clerk who'd handed over the money. Just shot someone who was old enough to his mother. Just like that. Just like that. He cringed at the thought of what went through people's minds when they did something of that nature. Was it just like this? Being on autopilot. Never stopping until it was too late?
What if it was too late? Just too late for any of it to stop.
It wasn't until he got there that he knew where was going. He was at Geoff's. There looked to be something going on. He looked through the livingroom window. A bunch of guys around the kitchen table. Probably playing poker.
Dayton didn't like it. He didn't know why he didn't like it, but he didn't. Geoff had friends. Real friends who smiled and laughed where there was dips and chips and damn, he was interrupting. Interrupting. He couldn't be a part of that.
He stayed out in the cold on the porch. Maybe this was as far as he was supposed to go.