The 6:33pm train she boarded heading to New York wouldn’t stop honking as it rode through a suburb some 67 miles south of Philadelphia. Its repeated blares snaps her out of her mental state of reminiscing. The look in her eyes was distant and on her forehead a soft crease formed. She rubbed her temple at intervals which cause her lids to flutter each time. Again, she looked out through the window watching quiet suburb streets, old factories, scrap yards, motorways, bodies of water, woods and beautiful landscapes, high-rises and graffiti stained walls go by. Her mind wouldn’t stop pondering, wouldn’t stop reliving….it just couldn’t stop.
The closer the train got to its destination, the further away she was drawn from a place of vivid reality. She gazed continuously through the window until all she started to see was her own reflection in it, dusk had finally settled. Within her raged a silent war. A war bordering on decisions and choices. Kind words of old frantically hosed down freshly convinced words bent on billowing the fire. Her mind had become a messy battlefield where the victor or victim would be self. Like a wounded patriotic solider poised to uphold the honour and integrity of his beliefs, she wrestled on and wrestled much, contemplating, analyzing and at the same time, with presence of mind, quelling thoughts that may lead her down the dark path.
In the chaos of her mind she reflected on its power and its ability to lead her life in the direction of her predominant meditations. Knowing the quality of her life is determined by the state of her mind, she decided it was time to call a truce. No one experience, encounter or conversation left her neutral. Consciously, subconsciously or unconsciously the mental war had reached that point where she needed to make a decision either to allow it take her higher or drag her under. She struggled within to justify the war for the injustice served but in the chaos of her mind stood the chaperone of her soul whispering ever so softly, “Let it go.”
“Today, take twenty minutes to free write. And don’t think about what you’ll write. Just write.
Keep typing (or scribbling, if you prefer to handwrite for this exercise) until your twenty minutes are up. It doesn’t matter if what you write is incomplete, or nonsense, or not worthy of the “Publish” button.
And for your first twist? Publish this stream-of-consciousness post on your blog.”