 |
| Copyright © Patual |
You think my story romantic, you envy me. The pictures you
conjure up in your mind, with my words are perfect, paradise. Your face
expresses your thoughts. Your dreamy eyes mesmerised by your interpretation of
my story.
I left the ugly bits out. Yes, the early morning walks
watching the sun play with the clouds and switching off the darkness like a
light switch were magical. Yes, the silhouettes of houses and trees as the sun
reluctantly sank beyond the now were worthy of a National Gallery artist’s
brush. Yes, the adventures were
exciting, childlike and daring!
But does your imagination place my story on summer days and
nights? Did you ever consider the reverse of my story canvas? Did you ever see
me plodding past that beautiful snow sprinkled engine wearing thin trousers, a
jacket far too large with a zip that didn’t work? Did you see my ears almost
raw, red from the cold? Did you think where I slept on those icy, windy nights?
No, you probably didn’t imagine me shivering under a thin
Salvation Army blanket on the cold iron floor of one of the monster’s empty
draughty coaches. You probably didn’t see me arriving and leaving under cover
of darkness, keeping watch on the lighted windows for anyone who may suspect my
trespassing presence.
The stories I tell you are the good times I recall from the
hard times I passed through.
The stories I keep inside are the hurts and
disappointments, which made me strong enough to extract the good!
(Written for www.creativewriting.ie/writing-prompts/ Writing Prompts, February 2013)
