Wednesday, April 08, 2009

A Glimpse

Some excerpts of a piece I'm writing, but not sure what to do with just yet. It's fictional, but true to life as I know it.


Creak. Creak. Shuffleshuffleshuffle.

He came in.

Like an unassuming breeze, steady, confident, inconspicuous. I was lost in a world of wakeful dreams, but managed to nod kindly at him as he approached my table. He smiled warmly at me through sleepy eyes. After exchanging friendly banter with the barista—a tall, powerfully present man with dreadlocks and dark eyes that could look into the soul—he took a few steps my way, once again catching my absent-minded gaze.

“Do you mind if I join you?” He asked quietly.


“I see rhythm,” I said, nodding toward the world outside the windows.
“Can you hear it, too?”
“Not really. It’s so insulated in here. I see it more than I hear it. Or maybe I feel it. In fact, I can almost taste it. It’s like this strange familiarity in a land that isn’t my own just yet. Like a memory of a dream that you’d forgotten about. It’s like I’m laying in my bed, just waking up and trying really hard to remember what it was about, or who was in it. It makes me feel bold, but timid. It’s like I feel like I could pen a million words, but then stare at a blank page with nothing to say.”