Subway musings

The letters grow larger as they move down the page. Shift to the right, lean and grow in her newfound hurry to get it all down. To prove that she hasn't forgotten how to put pen to paper, how to make the words continuously flow through her into sentences reflecting, feelings, hopes, dreams, memories. The whole of it, not just some but everything there is. And the words grow, started so small and neat, so precise at the top of the page, now midway through, they grow wilder, unrestrained, as she gains speed they take on an almost illegible quality. She has to get it all down, before it vanishes, before the meaning disappears from her mind. The words a memory, uncatchable, therefore unwrittable and no one would ever understand them because they had returned to the recesses of her mind. So the words grow as she writes faster, more frantically, blurring even her own comprehension. But they were written, and out of her head, more real than before. At least they were written.