The cab was waiting for him outside in the cold sodden street. As he turned the key to lock his boxy London flat, he pulled his thick blue duffel coat tight about his body ready to face the cold. The horn beeped again making him jump. Everyone was in such a rush in this hectic city. He began to feel the strain of his daily routine attack his insides. The driver scowled out of his window, he must be annoyed at having to wait seconds longer than necessary, wanting to make every extra penny he could out of every city dweller that crossed his path.
Outside the rain continued to pour. He yearned to be back in his paradise. He much preferred the warm shores of Bali to the emptiness of the city pavements. He hesitated, apprehensive about facing the day ahead. But that thought quickly faded, he was strong, an intrepid individual, he strived to keep the peace within. Slowly he breathed and tasted the beauty, the great life he had been blessed with. Calm and serenity took over his worries and once again he was at ease with himself. He pulled the door of the car closed behind him and smiled.
"Where to?" asked the driver.
"To the Coach station please mate...take your time if you like".
The car pulled away and seemed to float through the busy congested streets.
The driver was an overweight, red faced man. Age was not on his side and it looked like he didn't care either. He felt sorry for him but refrained from making idle chit chat, he had no interest in this man's thoughts, not today. It was hard watching these overindulgent people drink and eat themselves to a slow death. He had been like that one day. He too had been ignorant to life's wealth.
He could make out generic radio sounds; stifled noise jumping and bumping around in the car. Its' jarring irritated him and began to steal away his mood. He would welcome the rhythmic sounds of an African drum right now, to kick start him into the day. He checked his watch, the face always seemed to manage to find itself to the back of his wrist. He had never needed a watch when he was away, time was of no significance back then. He noticed how worn the brown leather strap appeared now in the gloomy morning light. 8am. Existing for another day. No, living. A whole day ahead, a whole day to attempt to change the world once more.
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A word in yous ear, lovely Girl.
Written by gerardconnolly (1186 comments posted) 16th February 2006 |
Lovely Girl
I enjoyed this. Yous plainly has a way with words. A tad short but, so they say, life's sweetest buzz is life's shortest. [Frankly th' least said o' that kind o' dirty insinuation th' better]
Forgive th' cute aside but do yous not think yous might not let them dancin' word's in your head go free t' do their work ? The poet in prose in print is the grandest o' speakers. If you've got it, flaunt it. Leave aside th' leaden sentances of introspective English literature and whisper thunder as though yous were sittin' aside your hearer. It's the way to tell it. You've a gift, an' yous should let them words go blisterin' the printed page th' like o' fire from the mouth o' Mor the Dragon?
Again, my compliments to you.
Slainte! |
Save the world
Written by Josie (2847 comments posted) 3rd June 2006 |
Could you tell me the connection between "Save the World" and your following writing? I thought I was going to read something about encouraging people to take more care of our beautiful world before it is too late.
The following writing was good, and I enjoyed reading it. You have a good way with words, (which can't be said for everyone - nuff said) - and I think you should continue to develop it. Why not try poetry? |
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