Today I sat on a train, watching a woman next to me write things
about amazing evenings in Paris, while her husband sat opposite
and smiled.
He mentioned the view, passing as she wrote, a distinctive style
reminiscent of Baroque ceilings, capped with caked-on dirt.
I followed the man's gaze, silently agreeing as he made
appreciative noises, pointing out particular beauty-spots
through the window.
It was a lovely day, sun-warmed dew rising off the earth
like billowing clouds from a steam engine. I looked away.
tell me exactly what you think; no holds barred!
Comments
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why the prose style?
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why not?
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You wrote about this couple as if you've seen them yourself, or you know them specificallly. Brilliant write. Well done.
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A Definite Wow!!!!
This was very descriptive, I liked that. You put your readers near the couple of which you wrote. I felt as if I was on the train with you. Keep up the good work. I wish That I could make diary entries such as yours. Good writing!!
Papagallo
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I like the snap-shot intimacy of this, and the three different worlds co-existing. The final line leaves me wondering - away from their closeness, or away from the sun-warmed dew?
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I suppose I'm just using "I looked away" (from following the man's gaze) as the break-off point
I didn't want to carry on in case it got messy
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Beautifully written. You really took me there! Very impressive!
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thanks Ara'! I've not written much for a while, but lately I've been easing back into it, with simple observations
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