The Bag

When I do want to do a WordPress post, it comes to me that I do.

I’m here now and I’ve planned nothing – left the title space blank for now – because I write to find out where I am.  I don’t start from where I am and set something out from there.

I was taught that way of writing at school.  You made a plan.  It included ‘introduction’ as a category – I’ve forgotten now – but you had that, and then you put the main body of your argument – maybe in three paragraphs – and then your conclusion.

Okay – my introduction is that I’ve been wandering around all over the place in my – mind – I have thought of the process as being in by-ways, thorough-fares, crossroads.

I am on a mental journey, I could write in one of my major paragraphs.

I could give up on that altogether and give a fiction.

am on a lane.  I’m walking along a lane – and it is sunny because I wouldn’t know why I was walking along a lane unless it was a sunny day.

Unless I was escaping from something – a situation, say.

Yes.  This is precisely it.

I am in a lane, escaping from a situation that I have found myself in.  A place, that is.

And I have been assured that the place is safe.

People are watching over you – it must be safe.

They say it is safe.  They say you require this safe spot.

But I don’t trust them.  I haven’t told them that.  I don’t trust them enough to tell them I don’t trust them.

That just shows how right I am.  I would tell them my concerns if I trusted them.  I would say – hey – I’m just popping out for a walk along a sunny lane.  No – I’m not sure what time I’ll be back.

Don’t worry – I know there is a clean stream along this lane where I am going to walk – I mean – I won’t get thirsty – I’ll be able to drink from that.

Food?

Well, I know there is at least one cafeteria at the end of this lane.  I’ll eat something there.

Money?  Yes, I have money.

No.  I won’t show you that.  Why should I?

Why should you be bothered that I want to go out along that sunny lane without showing you my money?

I have a bag.  I’ll take my bag.

I write the title.

I don’t know why I stop here in this fiction.  I could go on.  I could say that I have nothing in my bag.  I could say that my bag was to put something in if I should come across something that I wanted to carry.

I could get out of that situation with my money and my bag, not giving my plans.