It was reading week last week, which meant that I wasn't joining in on any free writing activities with my students. I was, however, gifted the free time to start writing a new novel (hurrah). At the time of writing this post I'm around 13,500 words into the new book, and it's a mixture of joy and horror that's carrying me through the hours of writing. That said, this week I was back to free writing with my students, and this morning it occurred to me that I hadn't yet been brave enough to share the results.
It was always where we met - knees knocking beneath the table; fingers grazing at the counter-top while we both gestured towards the same cake; hands holding, only for a second, when we grabbed the teapot. I didn't much care for the confectioneries. I only wanted a quiet hour where we could laugh, and play at being young women in love, in plain sight of the boys who we might one day be married off to. It was an idea we laughed over - until someone asked. She didn't tell me. She only showed me the ring and refused a cake - said she was watching her waistline now, that she had to think of slimming into the dress.
I have no desire to move forward or back - only to sit. It took so long to find a quiet crevice. Here, nature is so loud that I can pretend the rest of the world doesn't really exist - that there's nothing beyond this crater.
How could the 17:05 into Birmingham be louder than breeze clapping through trees? The hum of the office lighting, how could that overshadow the short showers of small rocks on larger ones as another bit of earth breaks away?
No. Here, I can imagine quite easily that I haven't left anything behind at all.