I woke up out of sorts. The night had seen me bury into sleep on the couch under the cool breeze of the air-conditioning. Skin uncomfortably warm and brain spilling fear and unanswered questions like black oil. Slippery and dangerous. My uneasy fall into unconsciousness was a grubby handprint on my memory that hadn’t yet been washed.

House empty of food I resolved to walk to the shop. The two kilometre round trip with the simple purpose of nourishment appealed to a mind tangled in thoughts and emotions that were too knotted to yet unravel.

The air was sticky with the promise of summertime rain. Clouds bubbled against blue sky.

I discovered pain in each step as new sneakers and old, ill-fitting orthotics gripped my foot with each strike on the footpath. I was tempted by frustration, until a glimmer of gratitude, brought to my ears by the scratching of my shoe on concrete, reminded me of the beauty in the simple ability to put one foot in front of the other.

Soon I was welcomed by the the cool, dry air released by the automatic doors of the supermarket. I collected items haphazardly into the bright, red shopping basket. At the checkout my bag bulged chaotically and I heaved it onto my shoulder.

As I walked back home, the concrete became polka-dotted by slow, fat raindrops. I raised amused eyes to the sky to observe the clouds collecting together, now a prophetic shade of rain grey.

A slight smile caught the corners of my lips – the first genuine smile of the day – and I revelled in the reality that I would not be able to out-walk the rain. The singular, purposeful drops of water transformed into steady streams, and the houses and bitumen beyond me started to fade into the mist. The water clung to my hair and droplets, obeying the call of gravity, slid down the curves of eyes, cheeks and chin.

As I followed gurgling stormwater drains, a little of my fear flowed away into them. In this moment there was nothing more to my life than the steady, predictable purpose of reaching home and stowing my groceries. Finally, rain-soaked and heart-refreshed, I opened the door. And with each dripping footstep across the grey tiles the day promised to be a little brighter.