Staring into space #15

Others do it as well, I've noticed. I wonder what they are thinking, if at all. 'What are you thinking about?' I ask. 'Nothing really, just staring into space'.
What do we hope to find out there? The answer to a question, a new past, a predicable future, comfort from the crowd, memories of a friend?
The noise of the traffic and the chatter of the crowd fades. One hand warms the other, the eyes see new things, the ears are attuned to new melodies. The soft light of the days is brief and refreshing. It will pass, this moment and nothing will have changed but the craving to return will linger until lunch time.
We can shake loose from the fantasy but not from the feelings it brings.

Staring into space #14

I'm inclined to think we all need a sign to point out the bleeding obvious from time to time.

Staring into Space # 13

The space I leave behind fills quickly with detritus. I can hear the molecules moving first, fast and furious, to fill the vacuum in accordance with the Laws of Thermodynamics, Enthalpy and that age old Law of Vacant Space and Diminishing Surfaces which suggests any space created by men will be filled with important items once it has been cleaned by a woman and declared dust free.
What amazes me is what follows. I can't remember where most of it comes from or why I had it in the first place. I look around to see if any parts of me have fallen off. Has a dump truck passed this way and lost its load? Did someone move in when I wasn't looking?
Look around, gentlemen. Not too far away will be a small pile of fragments from you last activity. Close the door behind you as you leave. It will spread.

Staring into Space #12

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DSC5286, a photo by tom.dinning on Flickr.

2. Two what? Two doors? Two floors? Two rooms behind? I'm a patient man. I'll wait and see. I have nothing better to do. The doors stare back at me. Do they ask me to enter? Still no sign of life from beyond. I'm waiting, staring. Then I notice. I'm not there, in the reflection. I'm not staring back. My reflection has already entered. It waits for me to catch up. A bead of sweat runs into my eye. I hear a bell ring and the doors begin to open. I'm gone.

Staring into Space #11

What scares me is when I find myself looking back from the space in between. Like an intruder, I'm conscious of my existence and possible impact on the casual observer. I'm no longer alone. I have company. Not something dark and sinister, just a fleeting glance that will blow away in the next movement, creeping across the landscape in opposition to the rising sun. This part of me will leave no trace. I endeavor to do the same but the fatal flaw is gravity as I look down and see my footprints in the mud and a broken twig under my shoe. How clumsy we are, I think, unlike the shadow.