I grabbed food, coffee, and then it was like a need inside of me that I wasn’t fully comprehending until somehow, I found myself parking at the top of a hill. I was on the outskirts of Cain. Trees spread out in front of me. I double-checked, but none of this was private property. I’d have to look through the records, but I was betting this was still city land waiting to be developed.

Packing my items in a bag, I started through the trees.

There were walking trails on the ridge, and going down one, I kept watch until I found an opening closer to the edge and moved in.

I hadn’t known I was coming here, I wasn’t even sure where exactly I was.

I moved along, off the walking trail now, and headed farther west.

I kept going until I came to a small clearing and looked out.

It overlooked a row of houses.

They were bigger than the ones in Roussou, much bigger. Each had a pool. A couple had pool houses, but I could see into their backyards. One of the houses had a woman and a group of young children playing, running, and jumping into the pool. There was another young woman talking to the other, sitting at a back table, overlooking the kids, but mostly talking to each other. There was a whole spread of food and drinks on another table. Balloons. A cake. Presents. Party hats.

It was a birthday party.

Another house had a couple kids floating in their pool, tanning, and talking.

I could hear their conversation, but it was a low murmur. I could only pick out a word here and there. Another house had a woman, retired age working on the shrubbery by her house. Still another had an older lady relaxing, sitting at a table, and her head pointed upwards to the sun.

I sat, feeling something settling inside of me, and I just watched.

It was a minute later, maybe five, perhaps longer, until I moved to start eating. I’d fallen into some form of a trance, watching them, seeing their lives, their homes. The normalcy. They seemed content, almost every single one of them. I knew they weren’t, though. They couldn’t be. Lives were messy, lives weren’t perfect.

There were always deeper emotions. Feelings, thoughts that were under the surface, sometimes acknowledged and most often ignored. But those feelings, those thoughts were there, and they directed what was on the surface. People crying and not knowing why. People hurting others and not understanding what they’re doing. Words spoken, judgments passed. All of it was guided from what was sitting just under the surface, but observing these people, they were content.

On the surface.

And who knows, maybe that ran deep inside and they truly were in a good place.

But I was betting they weren’t. Who was, really?