Creative Non-Fiction Short Stories. :) Travel, Oldsters, Love, and Compassion.
Well, I confess: I’m working on a longer something-or-other that may-or-may-not be book-shaped, and it’s been taking a lot of my energy. I found this week I wasn’t really watching strangers. Instead, I’ve been going through a notebook from 5 years ago when I first moved to Europe. I hope a bit of my candid and nervous self-talk might count as a nice break, and perhaps an introduction to yours truly.
Thank you for reading the blog! Merry Christmas!
Vienna, Austria. 2008.
A man walks and makes percussion songs for a Katy Perry song. I follow him for two blocks just to be sure I could name that tune.
A couple holds hands while riding bicycles. A waiter stands outside his cafe and smokes, seemingly lost to the world until a beautiful woman passes. A skateboarder falls in front of a pack of tourists, then hustles away, his cap low over his blushing face. I’m with him.
I’m so ashamed not have the nerve to try German, despite two years of lessons, despite all that reading. I go to a bakery in the train station, thinking they are accustomed to people who are clueless or strange. I ordered a pastry I couldn’t identify and I ended up with a cappuccino. Still, the clerk takes pity on me by essentially ignoring me, and the woman sweeping the floor accepts my apologetic smiles while I write. It’s as good a place as any to hide and collect my thoughts.
Later, outside a shop, a child pleads with her mother for a toy in the tone of pleading, but in words I don’t understand. Nonetheless, I get her drift. I feel myself beaming over any sense of the universal. Over here, I will grasp any straws necessary until I can keep my cool. It might take forever. Or, it may be tomorrow.