roulette anglais ( a non story) 


circular motion.. 

Man wakes up in the morning after fantastic dream. Man thinks, "must write dream down". But it is late and cannot do it now. The dream washes away, its last shreds get wiped out of his face with the towel, man looks at himself in the mirror and thinks, "I'll never be able to write it now. It is gone..."

Man leaves house whistling a tune to himself. Fantastic song. He's already thought the words for it, can hear the arrangement in his head, can't wait to write it down. But right now he has no time, he's already late, must get in the car and drive off to work.

Man drives along the motorway and something triggers in his mind the plot for an extraordinary story. But he cannot write it just now, must do as soon as he can

But by then story is gone, like the dream and the poem and the song that never get written. And so life passes: paying the bills, watching the clock, queueing to speak to the bank manager or renew this or that permit. Like now, in the queue at the local council's office, he's had a wonderful moment of inspiration. Searches in his bag for pen and paper but he has none. By the time he finds it he'll be at the front of the line and it will be time to speak to the person behind the window about something terribly urgent, while the important things slip by, undone, unmade, unsung. 

Posted: Sun - February 29, 2004 at 11:32 AM          

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