solitude

day after day I sit in front of my laptop in my bureau up, up, up under the roof of my wonderful little house. I dream up plots and characters. scenes and chapters. dialogues and action. try to capture all this dreaming up in a story, that hopefully will entertain somebody. eventually. sometime.

at times the house below me is full and I hear voices and noises downstairs. sometimes mr. cat shows heart and comes up for a glimpse and a quick pat. other times, like now, I sit here and write – to you in this case – in a quiet, abandoned house. mr. cat is out or fast asleep. Alan Parsons „Shadow of a Lonely Man“ makes my writing solitude perfect.

and as I open my text files, my bureau gets crowded … my characters breathe, talk, think, move… they eat and drink, love and hate … they cry, laugh, yell, whisper … they are … around me.

and then an email pops up: the daily post makes me think about Solitude. for months I’ve been one of those, standing at the fence, nosing around and wondering, how on earth to participate.

I know now.

 

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