Long time no blog. One light call it writers’ block. Not the “sit staring at a blank page” block, more the “finding the impetus and the desire to write.” Time is always a factor, but I can never say that there is nothing to write about. In this kind of crazy world, I’ve decided to start taking a very sideways glance at everything.

First new writing in a long time. A kind of silly story that explores a theme very dear to my heart – running away.

THE MAN WHO WOULDN’T RUN AWAY (Silly story)

Mournful morning, grey leaden rain-soaked sky, sad damp day, the world feels rheumatic.

A grey morning man, with a headful of rainy thoughts, sits in his kitchen, clutching a half-cold, half-drunk mug of tea. A half-smoked cigarette smokes itself away in the ashtray and the half-smoked man lights another cigarette, forgetting that he already has one smoking. 

Story of life, starting stuff, getting it half done and then giving it up halfway to start over, bigger and better than before. “We’re not doing this by halves”

Half-heartedly, he stares out the kitchen window The world was is all blurred with rain drops, and the man feels the same way. “I’ve got half a mind just to leave all this and run away.” But he knows, like every time he runs away, he’ll get halfway to somewhere and then just come home again. 

He sat, listening to the kitchen clock ticking his life away. If he was going to run away, he’d have to do it now, while there was still time. You can run at any time, but you need time to run.

“I need someone and somewhere to run to and something or someone to run from.”

All of a sudden, the man wasn’t so sure that he wanted to run away. He didn’t really want to run away from home (the place he called home). It was lashing down great torrents of rain outside and if he ran away he would get soaked and where would he run to? Who would he run to?  He didn’t know anyone, either to run to or to run from. He was alone.

“I’m on my own and If I run away now,” he thought, “no one but me will know that  I’ve run away. No one will miss me or come looking for me. No one cares.”

People used to care, but the man had run away from so many people so many times before that no one cared anymore. There was no one left. The man had half a mind just to stay where he was. “I won’t run away” he resolved, gritting hid teeth, banging his mug down on the table and firmly stubbing out his cigarette. “No, I won’t run away. Everyone is expecting me to run away, but I’m just going to stay here. That will show them. They’ll think I’ve run off, they’ll go looking for me everywhere, but all the time, I’ll be here.”

He didn’t feel like half the man that he had been. Now that he had decided not to run away, he felt in full control of his destiny. He stood up, lit another cigarette, then  switched on the kettle and made a fresh  cup of tea.