Thoughts About Thoughts
Her spongy, rubber soles spoke as she walked. “Pluosh, Pluosh”. Old trees heard her pass but said nothing. Tilted on a wire far, far above her a lone crow shrieked. “Not my message”, she thought. And it wasn’t. Just a voice out there in the cool, early morning. It made her think about thoughts. Like a stream of ramble. Between the brain and the tongue. So much, so very much lost in apathy. Thoughts suspended without the shape of words. She pictured a meteorite as it plunged down. Crushing her as it fell. Her thoughts disseminated. It didn’t concern her to lose her life. But her thoughts……? She was careful to pass over the railroad tracks. Slowed around the corner cafe. Under the canopy of trees. “If I write them down…” She realized they would no longer be thoughts. But words in sentences. She opened the cranky lock to her apartment. Set down her jangle of keys. And sat. She searched out the window on her comforting couch. She tried to force silence to her thoughts. She focused