So last night I'm busy banging away on the laptop, creating a new world with words and what skills I possess. Lost in the moment, watching sentences fly across the screen, I stop. My stomach is growling and there are delicious, ripe, plums downstairs. Saving my work (I always save and you should too), I walk to the stairs sans shoes because barefoot writing is the only way to travel.
My mind, divided in half, part still on the story the other half imagining the fruit, is not truly focused on walking. When is it ever? We walk as we breathe, with very little thought. Sometimes though, a bit of thinking is required...as are a pair of shoes. I hit the stairs at a trot, hands just brushing the railing; why bother?
About the third step down, my bare feet hit the slick carpet and I began careening down the stairs one bump at a time, shoulders bouncing on the walls, picking up speed, hand seeking the railing and coming up empty. It was like a Slip 'n Slide minus the fun and the water. Unhappy that my shoulders were browsing the wall, enjoying the trip, my head decided to join them. The ride ended rather quickly as most do. I sat on the floor, looking at the table where the plums sat in a bowl, waiting for signs of any bodily damage (the stairs were just fine). Standing up, I kind of limped towards the table, grabbed two plums, and ate them, glancing at the stairs as if they were to blame, knowing that a return trip awaited.
One hand firmly on the rail, I ventured back up; my story unfinished, sore body but no serious injury, and resumed typing, slowly at first, then picking up pace as my mind took the reigns. Pausing, I cracked my knuckles and saw a pair of shoes on the floor; they looked up at me longingly. Slipping them on, realizing the error of my ways, I resumed typing. Shoes, not the sole addition to my writing wardrobe; a soft pillow rested on the chair.
No comments:
Post a Comment