The game began with a
rectangular area of water.
The conveyer belt of
humans, in an anti-clockwise
direction. You have to pace
yourself in response to the
current position of the other
creatures. A desire to
up your speed could
lead to a sudden pause
half way down the longer
stretch of the rectangle.
I began to attempt to
tread water as I waited
but my feet hit the
bottom of the pool instead.
Looking at London from
a far. Watching London
from a far.
Where I was yesterday.
Where I will be tomorrow.
Yet I remain here.
Open road.
Back in the car.
Back to freedom.
Exploring.
Discovery.
I made it to the mountains.
I spent three months trying to get there.
Finally I made it.
Take me back to the mountains.
They taunt me even more now I know what is over there.
Just fourty minutes away.
Just over there.
As we all covered
our noses from
the heavy
snowfall of
pollen.
The first time I walked
through it I had
to blow my nose
after.
This time I
hope I am safe.
An exchange of smile
as I notice others
doing
the
same.
I await my entry into
the snow.
The
river
takes
my eyes
and sucks
them
in.
There is no
leaving.
Lost amongst
the waves.
The mountain ranges
stand so perfect.
They stand to
attention as
the waves flow
to the sea.
Freedom found in a notebook.
Always.
Restless. I can’t sit still or choose a seat on the train, but I have finally been successful. Perhaps I look slightly strange to the other passengers, especially since when getting on the train I was desperate for the toilet which led me to walk the whole length of the train before even finding a seat. I think I hopped about five seats, the last I tried, by the window, had an extremely hot heater next to it.
Now I have found a place to sit, to look and write. The mountains and trees surround the train. The small town that I currently live inhabit is nice, but too small. The countryside surrounding it, and the mountains, are beautiful, yet by foot it takes a while to get somewhere. Therefore I find myself on this train, traveling south, at the dismay of my bank account.
Sometimes I wonder how others on the train can read when the views on the train are like this.
It’s lights don’t go on
anymore.
I wonder why.
It saddens me slightly
when I look out of
my window at night
and darkness is found
instead of the spire.
Just the base is lit
from a lone standing
street lamp behind the
tree. A dim yellow
tone is projected on the
ground and walls. The
only source of light in
the area at this time.
Along with my kitchen
light which I will
soon turn off.
Bonne nuit.
À demain.
The moon light emerges from the other side of the church, becoming brighter with every second. ‘How can I complain about where I am living?’ She thought to herself.
There it is in all it’s glory. It is appearing. Golden. Soon the face will be in sight. At least a hope is present that it will.
She was left somewhat disappointed as it appeared as a whole, yet it sat disguised by the clouds. It appeared bigger than it should through the multiple layers of cloud.
It is still impressive despite it being somewhat lost.
Patience was all that was needed as a few moments later the perfect circle appeared, only a light haze sat between the eye and moon.
The face was visible through the haze for a few moments and then it went again.
Time to head back indoors away from the chill of the night.
On the phone. Smoking a
cigarette. Standing up
outside the bar. Spinning
on the slippy floor.
A fun occupation. A
sign of a lack of care.
A good sign. A nice
sight to see. Pleasing
to the eye.
Is it a
bit close
for
comfort
if you
start
drawing
people
on a
plane?
Too late.
Walking without my feet.
The plane does the work.
The mountains inside the
plane:
people’s heads above the seat of the chair.
emma.e.day