snippet: Nic – a beginning
One of the many beginnings I’ve got knocking round my harddrive/dropbox – stumbled across it this morning, liked it again and thought I’d share.
With the leaves turning yellow came the familiar yearning.
This morning brought a wind that rushed puffy white clouds across a crystalblue sky and Nic felt the corresponding urge to move. It was a pull in her stomach, a rush of blood, a tingling in the feet. The need to move on was a physical ache.
‘Like a fucking drug addict,’ Nic thought disgustedly, throwing down her pen. The fall sun was streaming through the windows of the café, bringing out golden highlights in Nic’s hair. By half-closing her eyes she could see a ghostly reflection of herself in the glass – pale, not quite there, her long, slender build just adding to the ghost-like impression of her reflection. She closed her eyes against her ghost-self and tried to relax.
It was six months since she’d last had this feeling, back on the West Coast. She’d been determined to withstand it, but with every passing day her determination had corroded, until, only a week after the first urge, she had given in. She still hadn’t fully forgiven herself for giving up so easily. ‘Gonna pack it in again, are you?’ she silently challenged herself. ‘Can’t even stand it for six months anymore… how weak you are…’
She opened her eyes again. Putting herself down wasn’t helping. She tried to clear her head of personal thoughts and go on with the business of writing, but after a few minutes she realized that she wasn’t thinking about her article, but of possible new destinations.