02 November, 2007. Tagged as Writing
I am leaning against my car in the deserted parking lot of a small shopping village, watching the world speed past on the nearby arterial. The night is cool and silent, and I am secure and content and in love, and in this silence the gentle rumbling of wheel on asphalt, a roar from a lightly shielded motor, the steady train of my thoughts all blend together, and I am part of this moment, of this night that could stretch as infinitely as the road.
I wonder that I don’t come out here and write more often; there is so much possibility waiting to be hewn from the quiet. I have not felt so curious in a long time. What is around this corner or that is no longer something to ponder, but a question that can be answered in the here and now.
I bought a small notepad, nice thick one. Let’s see if I can’t do this a few times a week and get some quality writing done.