Remembering how to walk

Note: I used Eleven Labs to make an AI-version of my voice (above). This isn’t how I would narrate it, but it’s interesting to consider being able to auto-generate something like this for all my articles.

My wife thinks it sounds like my voice and Wil Wheaton’s voice had a baby.

I walk along my side of the street, all elegant and smooth. Sure of my steps. Sure of my path. Sure of my destination. My shoes make no noise and I am ever-so-slightly proud of the fact that I can glide along without disturbing or being disturbed.

Across the street, there is a small child. He bounces and stumbles and squeals. He holds hands with his mother as a dog approaches, but is quickly distracted by the gravel on the ground as they cross the entrance to the alley. He picks up a tiny fist-full of small rocks and throws them at his shoes and laughs at the sight and crashing sound of it.

I watch and realize I have forgotten how to walk.