My mind wonders. I don’t think. I listen to the noises. I write the mumble. I write the swoosh. Foot steps with voices. Rattling change with face. Alone on a bench waiting for a train. A train that will take me to no ordinary place. I close my eyes, think of what I want and who I am. I would rather think of anything besides those two things. Alas, a train comes but not for me. I’m going to this not so ordinary place, you see. Beeps are sound, the trains coming round.

“Ordinary”

Copyright Jessica Reynolds © 2006

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