Lost in Thought

 

          I had been looking down the whole time I was walking - my gaze hypnotically upon the sidewalk - these segmented pads of concrete so evenly spaced they created a rhythm in my mind as they passed beneath me. 

 

          Step down, road, road, road, road – curb, and back up to the rhythm.  I had been walking long past my own neighborhood, right through lunch and now into dusk; yet, I had not looked up.  I was walking now and that is who I was, I was walking guy.  Like some extra in a movie, Guy walking past.  That was me.  Watch for me in the credits.

 

          Step down, road, road, road, road – curb, and back up to the rhythm.  There were different sounds to this neighborhood, I didn’t recognize them as typical neighborhood noises; lawnmowers, teenagers washing the family car, music coming from someone’s window, no these sounds were noticeably muffled, different and somewhat quieter.  Still, it was dusk and general activities would be less than those of afternoon.  I would be able to distinguish city noises, should I end up walking that far but not having had my lunch I am sure my thoughts of dinner would soon hold some influence over the direction of my shoes.

 

          Step down, road, road, road, road – curb and step up.  Maybe I might forgo the evening meal and walk right through dinner.  Surely, I’m not about to whither away.  I just remembered a line from an old movie.  I’m not sure why that popped into my thoughts.  The line is, “I could always live in my art but never in my life.”  I’m not sure why thoughts of dinner would spring an old movie line into my head.  Every now and then a writer will hit upon a line that is a true gem and they know exactly when it happens.  They read it repeatedly, bouncing it against the character tasked with speaking the line, making sure it is going to flow and not be trampled by the laughter or applause of the pervious dialog. 

 

          It is an exciting moment causing the writer to re-read the entire previous scene, taking thoughts quickly away from the drudgery of syntax and plunging them into the mental challenge of getting back on track - heading towards the thread that leads to the final scene. 

 

          Often times that gem of a line quickly evolves into an obstacle.  Momentum is lost and the thoughts of the writer begin to stray, “What critics will be in the audience?”  “Will I be killed in the reviews?” and once these thoughts take over it is best to just walk away.  Shut it down for the night, step down, road, road, road – THUD.