Pieces
Whenever I get the urge to write, I'm never in front of the computer. Neither do I have any paper or writing instruments with me. It's just one of those things.
And when I finally do get in front of the computer, my muse has disappeared.
So I shall tell a story. Because it is the little things that happen that may feel insignificant or just not worth mentioning that finally do make up the pieces of me. Of my life.
Starting with my beloved dog, Sandy, who nearly gave this random stranger a heart attack just a few days back. Sandy loves going on rides; she likes to stick her head out of the window and feel the wind in her face. I know that because when I'm sitting in front and we start driving down the hill, she pushes forward, wanting to stick her head further out. Sandy's second favourite thing after rides is barking. Attention-seeking behaviour, perhaps? "Look at me! In my very own chauffeur-driven car!" As we were driving past this rather wild, unkempt-looking pedestrian who was slowly tottering along the road, Sandy let out a furious volley of barks, which caused him to jump, turn and glare, yell, and set him off running after the car in the middle of the road. This was totally unexpected. Panicking, we floored the accelerator (luckily the traffic light ahead was green) and zoomed up the hill. Thoughts of a vengeful murderous wildman kept creeping into our over-active imaginations. One who'd prowl the streets looking to exact revenge on that little racist dog of mine. It was a while before we lost sight of him and he was still running. Needless to say, we took a rather circular route home and ensured that the windows were wound up as we past that spot again.
Was that a bump I just heard? Let me get my baseball bat and check.
And when I finally do get in front of the computer, my muse has disappeared.
So I shall tell a story. Because it is the little things that happen that may feel insignificant or just not worth mentioning that finally do make up the pieces of me. Of my life.
Starting with my beloved dog, Sandy, who nearly gave this random stranger a heart attack just a few days back. Sandy loves going on rides; she likes to stick her head out of the window and feel the wind in her face. I know that because when I'm sitting in front and we start driving down the hill, she pushes forward, wanting to stick her head further out. Sandy's second favourite thing after rides is barking. Attention-seeking behaviour, perhaps? "Look at me! In my very own chauffeur-driven car!" As we were driving past this rather wild, unkempt-looking pedestrian who was slowly tottering along the road, Sandy let out a furious volley of barks, which caused him to jump, turn and glare, yell, and set him off running after the car in the middle of the road. This was totally unexpected. Panicking, we floored the accelerator (luckily the traffic light ahead was green) and zoomed up the hill. Thoughts of a vengeful murderous wildman kept creeping into our over-active imaginations. One who'd prowl the streets looking to exact revenge on that little racist dog of mine. It was a while before we lost sight of him and he was still running. Needless to say, we took a rather circular route home and ensured that the windows were wound up as we past that spot again.
Was that a bump I just heard? Let me get my baseball bat and check.