The woman in blue sits alone with her soup, contemplating the life that she had. As she reads the F.T. She discovers the world that she once lived in wasn’t that bad. With a twist of her head she regards passers by and she’s pleased she’s not out in the rain, then she turns to her thoughts and remembers herself, an old lady that lives with her pain.
With his headphones he’s lost in his own little world blanking out all the static white noise. Not a man who takes part in those manly team games, never was thought as ‘one of the boys’. So he studiously sits at his table and reads from his phone which reports all the news, and ignores all the folk that walk past him as they can’t compete with his internet muse!
Yes I sit with a drink as I watch life go by on a wild winters Monday at school. I can look at my cup and discover a world then report it as that’s now my rule. For a writer it’s said that you can’t miss a thing and a pen is important indeed, and one never can tell where the next line is from, as it’s life that is planting its seed!
Dec247h 
Reblogged this on ram H singhal note book.
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