Thursday, January 14, 2010

The Colour and the Shape

6
With a mild sense of childlike wonder, he enjoys the crunch of the settle snow under his brogues as he strolls along the pathway. Goodness knows there is enough cynicism in the world without letting the little wonders go unnoticed. He deliberately takes his time, he is no hurry and the rhythm to his gait sounds almost musical to his ears. No symphony would soundtrack his life at the moment though. At best, a busker playing his battered guitar for pound coins in the biting cold air. Passing a bench he stops in his tracks and decides to stay his journey for a while. Sitting (the cold reaches through his woollen coat) he places his gloved hand in his laps and just watches.

Watches the passers-by, shopping bags in hand and a pace that spells the impending start of a soap opera; the birds, seemingly oblivious to the slippery surfaces, hopping around the grass and tarmac; watching the few remaining curled leaves from the whitened oaks flapping around in a futile struggle against the stiff breeze. He so rarely takes the time to just watch. Though he has just left work, the season dictates that the sun should set at this time but this is not a fact at which he (today at any rate) laments. On the contrary, it is timed perfectly. The sky, already blackened like burnt paper at top of his vision, blends seamlessly into quite fantastic merged oranges, pinks and purples over the tree tops. As the streetlamps have yet to turn on (should the council be getting on that, he wonders) the trees devoid of their customary green signs of life yet stoically solid as ever maintain a sharp silhouette against the paint palette sky, the long boughs almost like long posed limbs reaching up towards the stars.

Hard to feel pessimistic about the world when such a sight is before your eyes. For a moment he forgets it all, the dead-end career situation, the sense of ennui that already is beginning to seep into this perfect moment, the cold that turns his breath into train-puffs of moisture in the air before him. Find the wonder, he resolves, find the wonder and keep it in your heart.

Ignoring the ache the cold has (already?) wrought upon his thighs, he rises to his feet once more and continues the walk home.

6 Response to The Colour and the Shape

14 January 2010 at 02:30

I really love the line "find the wonder and keep it in your heart." That's just so poetic and beautiful. :)

Kat
14 January 2010 at 02:48

This is really nice :)

Also I'm not sure if this was a coincidence, but the title is the same name as my favorite album, maybe ever :)

14 January 2010 at 03:06

@Crystal - Thanks so much! And I was worried it might sound a little trite!

@Kat, totally NOT a coincidence though I did ANGLOcise the 'colour' to the proper spelling! I thought 'colour' and 'the shape' just followed in my mind. Word association and all that.

14 January 2010 at 08:56

High five on Glee!!! I really miss that damn show. Satire and witty dialogue are my achilles heel.

Double high five on the shoutout donation to the victims in Haiti. Here in the states you can make an easy donation by texting 90999 with 'Haiti' in the body of the text, and an automatic $10 is billed to your phone bill. A little, especially in this case, can go a long way :)

14 January 2010 at 14:29

LOVE this! Sounds like you were very inspired and very in the moment. I especially love the parenthesis '(should the council be getting on that, he wonders)' it really highlights that you're taking it all in and have time to solve the worlds problems in a moment in this state of mind. With some tight editing on a couple of words it will be perfect. :) great work

14 January 2010 at 17:32

@Megan - I read about that! Sounds like a wonderful idea, if you take away the initial laziness factor so there's NO reason but selfishness between you and donating, it should give results!

@Alex - Wasn't actually going for that, but more the short-attention-spanned stream-of-consciousness :S But hey everyone will read things differently!