Tuesday, 22 January 2008

One Cup

Oh, ok, it got dark without me noticing.

Apologies for not writing for a while. (Who am I apologising to?) Not a single T-shirt slogan was created, that night. Not one. I managed to sit and write some very depressing things at about half past three, but no slogans, unless I cheat and pick some words from that particular spiel, which I won't, because it wasn't very inspiring. (Needless to say, by the time the sun was up and I was home, I'd shooed away most of the fears that the loneliness of night shift o'clock rouses in me. As if I give a shit that I don't have a female best friend. Really, Natalie...)

I have been writing quite a bit though. And smiling on the train, at the swans that adopted a huge field puddle as their home, like they'd been there forever (Yorkshire is very wet again, poor Yorkshire) and the man in the uneventful, plain black coat with that amazing rainbow block scarf. I hope he was a scientist, his (don't be offended, man) greying exterior hiding rainbow sciency thoughts. And then laughing at other things, too, things that made me want to laugh so hard that I was crawling into the window frame next to my seat (I got a window seat!) so the other passengers couldn't see me struggle to keep my lips from repeating the whole story, luxuriating over the funniest parts, to myself... I can't be the only person that does this. I've seen other people talking and laughing to themselves. Before the invention of bluetooth cast a protective shadow over my fellow mumblers. Sometimes they're frowning, churning out the clouds in their heads for the rest of us to see. We do do it, but it doesn't mean any of us are less hard on each other when we see it occur. It's just embarassing, isn't it? Anyway, this time it was worth the risk of being seen. Even if, right at this minute, I can't recall what was so funny... It's amazing how quickly it fades when I come away.

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