Inspiration and Writing

Taking time out, especially when travelling, focuses the imagination upon the passing trivia, amongst other things, and the potential in that as well as the challenge of the less mundane when it presents itself. I refer to trains sometimes in my stories, because I like travelling in them I suppose. I love their sedate rhythm and pace, even high speed seems to relax one into silent reflection. A mini encampment of reticule and essential items within easy reach,I travel light, is a comforting reminder of self-sufficiency and the welcome prospect of an unencumbered continuation to the journey. Room to stretch imagination and limbs. These self-imposed limitations facilitate wider opportunities to observe and contemplate. Extracting a mood out of which to create the next sentence, or catch a new idea for a title and theme.  

 As the hours eat up the miles I think of the different accounts each fellow traveller might give, Chaucer like, on the move, to lessen the load of that potentially wearisome predicament.  Then I lapse into the luxury of closing my eyes and drifting into sleepy momentum where the thoughts tumble and retreat and images come to mind.  On opening them again, now rested, the view from the window has changed. It’s a long journey.

This is where the sight of the spontaneous juxtaposition is for me a thrill. A limping grey tabby, suddenly moving quite quickly, in spite of its disability, along the detritus and graffiti adorned walls of the back of a block of flats, as the train reaches the near edges of the next urban mass.Here we will interrupt the miles and make a connection underground. Another set of possibilities. At what point do we meet the characters in their day? They speed past inside the crowded, metallic containers, our eyes meeting and parting fleetingly, before the shapes disappear from view into the dark. Full of short stories and anecdotes, sometimes poetic gems, like small films, made in focussed frames and concentrated space. These players exit too soon and the moment is passed. But an expression and stance remains with me which I will hold on to.

Another screen appears to be deciphered anxiously, and the crowd, waiting to be connected, using time until the sign to join their chosen carrier appears, suddenly surges towards the point of imminent departure. Carriage, seat, high or low? The perspective and position start to work on the imagination again.   

I have an idea as I watch the woman, sitting underneath the image of a sleeping mobile phone, rushing to find her phone, which is ringing loudly, emphatically. She fumbles with embarrassment and is amused at the same time. What does this tell me about her and the menage she is part of, or apart from?

All is at peace once more and the reflection, on the ceiling, from the seat in front, gazes at me because I seemed to find something amusing. Our reflections meet, I turn away and imagine what someone else must make of my reactions.

Suddenly the landscape changes and the houses become familiar, standing rectangular and light in isolated groupings which will soon become larger settlements and eventually a reason to leave this temporary, scenic route.

Watching the exits and entrances as the train waits, the platform is wet,but the people seem at one and in quiet acceptance of it. The glass lift propels them heaven wards and we move out. Time to collect my thoughts and hope I remember what entertained and perplexed. I wrote some of it down, but held the rest at bay as I wanted to mull it over.

The air is cooler than usual as we step out and the mood calmly serious, unflustered and functional.

Three men walk ahead in automatic conversation, their accents different,their gait sympathetic with each other’s. They are in their own story which might have begun as ours had, earlier on in the day, but in another place with a different course to run. They are intent and edgy as they turn off the main drag and disappear, without turning. I have another idea to conjour with, new dynamics to explore and define, an entrance for that fleeting expression of fixed bewilderment which passed by as I stood, waiting for the right connection.      

       





ParaDon Books Publishing



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