The nature preserve near my work is pretty quiet during the winter. You'll see a lot of trees with no color, an occasional hawk, and some prints from rabbit and deer. Once in awhile you'll see a cluster of empty beer cans in the snow, or a discarded cup and straw from one of the fast food joints on Capital. I saw an empty bottle of Kahlua once, and a packet for a condom, but aside from that and the trail of footprints from us walkers, that's pretty much it.

When it's warm, it's where the suburb of New Brunswick goes for the fireworks on the Fourth; where parents get drunk with plastic cups of beer, and the kids that can't sneak the beer get hopped up on candy. Lots of lights, lots of noise. They hold puppet shows in the kiddy amphitheatre, and the band shell is filled with 80's music. In the fall, a traveling carnival tents up for a week with rides and a haunted house.

For me, I just come here to walk. I usually hit the main parkway of the preserve — a nice fresh snake of asphalt that laces through a couple hundred acres of trees and wetlands. I can cover two, even three miles on any given lunch hour.

The last time I was out there, about two weeks now, the preserve was covered in a fresh dusting of snow. I was bundled up with layers, The Who was spinning in my Walkman, and I was happy. I remember the details with clarity. They were all part of the moments before I was jumped — rolled by a couple of fat high school kids. The two were wearing bandanas over their faces like train robbers and giggling like idiots. They could have been from the community college too, who knows, all the kids are so meaty these days, it would be awfully tough to find them.

My portable CD player was the sports model. It had AM/FM, weather band, and a hip belt. It was pricey. I bought it on whim. A purchase I justified to myself as something for my well-being, to get my heart rate up, each noonday.

I was at my midway point when the old Pontiac crept up on my left. I moved over into the gravel, expecting the car to pass, but there was nothing. One, two, three. I was blindsided, tackled, then belted in the face. My halo of stars was a buzz of drum and bass from the headphones, that had dropped around my neck. They took my shoes and stripped the Walkman. They even took the time to make fun of my music. They laughed at my Who, and sailed the disc through the air like a Frisbee. It landed upright in the snow.

My shoes were later recovered. The police said it was a tactic; they never wanted the shoes, they wanted insurance. They wanted my odds reduced in flagging down quick help. They wanted socks in the snow. A paramedic at the scene dabbed blood from my lip and cleaned the scrapes on my forearm. She said I was lucky to be alive.

My boss has let me take off from work these last two weeks. Whatever it takes to escape the horror he assured me. Although when I asked for the additional week, there was silence. I could picture him looking over the shop with the phone at his ear, combing a hand through his hair. Sure. sure. If you feel you can come in any sooner though. you should call. Take care.

My hands are raw, cracked and cut from the winter air, and at night I cover them in a thick paste of moisturizer. I watch the news while it soaks, and by sports the white becomes a dull glaze. Then I turn out the light. I am lonesome I suppose, but this has been my time, it is what it is, all of it, including the attack now at the preserve. It is the period in which Alice left me. She took off four months ago.

We rented a movie the night she told me she was leaving. We had watched the whole damn thing, and as the tape was rewinding in the VCR, she said she needed to talk. I thought she was going to tell me she was dying. Inoperable cancer, leukemia, lupus. She had gone to the doctor because of headaches.

When the movie finished winding, the sudden halt of the tape drive made the world very quiet. She was sick of my anxiousness. My worry of stupid shit she said, was becoming her worry of stupid shit, and it was bringing her down. I had made her confused for too long. She said she was moving in with her sister's family until she could figure out her next step. I sat and said nothing for nearly an hour until she finally gave up in disgust and went to bed. I poured a drink with no ice and replayed the movie.

Some days I nap a lot, and when I do, I'm a blur. I walk around like a smudge of ink, looking for things to do. I'm getting quotes to paint every room in the house. Alice had wallpapered most of it a few years back. She had gotten certified through the tech school to hang paper and now has her own business. My brother says the paint idea is to spite Alice, but he's wrong, just as he is with many things. I'm doing this because I want change. And I want proof of change.