Into The Unknown

I pause at the door, wave goodbye to everybody in the call-centre, and they wave back at me. The lift comes, and I press the ground floor button one last time, and the doors shut, and I will not see the fourth floor of the call centre again. I say good night to the security guards at reception, as if I am going to be back in tomorrow, and then, for the last time, go through the revolving doors, out onto Western Road and into the unknown.
The air has a pale, white quality to it. I move up the street in slow motion. I have left my job. Four weeks ago, I was on holiday, playing with the idea of leaving at the end of August, if not the end of September, but nothing planned, nothing certain, and here I am, a month later and I have already left.
It is a rare thing in life that the future is truly known. Tomorrow I catch the train to Worcester to meet my parents, then the morning after I shall be on a flight to Portland, Oregon, America (this seem to be an unbelievable statement, America must surely be as unreal as childhood or dream, some film of a place rather than anything real). A week later, I shall be back, and then... Well, as I said, the future is blank. Someone's thrown down tarot cards, but there's no pictures on them, nothing there, no prophecies, no predictions. The last time I was in a similar situation was back when I had been made redundant from Telegen, back in May 2010 where I wrote; 'In closing though, I have no idea what happens next. No idea at all'.
I wandered up Western Road, got some fish'n'chips from Bankers and went down to the half-deserted seafront where I ate them on the pebbles, and watched the troubled sea and restless cloud. It was still warm, and it started to rain slightly. After I had finished my fish'n'chips I walked back up to Western Road and came home.
I can hear the sounds of people next door move about, but aside from this, there is a remarkable silence about this evening, something slow and steady, like some undercurrent in a river heading inexorably to some unseen and inevitable sea.