I am sitting in silence.
Apart from the click and the clack of my keyboard.
Hiss.
When I pause from typing, I can hear a dull hiss.
Deep in my ears.
But nothing else.
Music.
My mind drifts to what music I should put on.
On my phone.
But instead of popping to YouTube, I do something I so rarely do.
Something quite different.
Something that makes me feel a little insecure, actually.
I turn my phone off.
(I paused when I got to the screen that prompted me to ‘slide right’, actually.
Just for a second.
But then.
Slid I did.
And the phone went cold).
Isolated.
I feel.
Well.
Isolated.
Frank the dog snoozes to my right.
Boats bob on the River Tyne to my left.
And this, the 295th daily 50odd story, is written.
Silence.
Silence breeds silence.
And that’s a good thing.
Silence in the mind makes room.
For new things.
New things.
In the silence, my consciousness drifted.
Looking for new things to fill the space.
But I didn’t find any new things at all.
Not one.
I found something far, far better.
I found old things.
Old Things.
My senses were heightened.
All of them.
And, somehow, I tuned in to old things.
Things that have almost always been there.
In the background.
I heard Mickey Chips (our cat) meow just then.
As he chattered at a bird.
Goading him from a boat’s mast.
Out of range.
Then, I looked down into my coffee cup as I sipped.
Noting the coffee’s beautiful, even deep brown hue.
It was such a lovely colour that I inhaled deeply.
Smelling it.
Coffee is such a lovely smell.
And I also noticed that when Frank looked up at me.
He looks, well, a little lonely (see photo: https://www.50odd.co.uk/old-things/).
So I cuddled him.
Frank.
I was reminded that Frank is always there for me.
And that I am not always there for Frank.
Sometimes because it is impossible.
And sometimes because I am doing something pointless.
Looking at utter, utter shit.
On my phone.
Off.
Life is better with your phone off.
Really.
Not because you discover new things.
But because you remember the old things.
2 Comments
That one actually made me cry (in the hairdressers!). Great story. Coincidentally, I had just written a card to my mam – caption “no other like my mother”. Had it for ages but decided to write it today. Because I don’t feel like I’m ‘there’ enough for her though she’s always there for me. We take things for granted too often. And phones are a great distraction from what we should really be looking at.
I am glad you connected with the story Louise.
And thank you very much for taking the time to comment.
I appreciate it.
M.