Writing thoughts on a grid

Grid Notepad

What are you doing?” he asked stirring his coffee cup with a long spoon.

“I am taking notes” she replied looking him in the face.

“Of our coffee chat?” he looked around. The café was almost empty. The waiter seemed bored.

“Yes”she smiled.

“Why?” his voice tried to sound smooth.

“Because I find inspiring what you say” she answered.

“You do?” he wondered.

“Yes, it encourages me when you say things like that I should stop being so passive and that I should learn to stand on my own two feet.”

“Well, I didn’t mean to…” he granted.

“I find inspiring when you doubted my intellect and laughed while I was trying to explain what I loved about the last book I read.

‘Love is such a ridiculous boast with feelings that are not really there’, you said. ‘What are feelings anyway? What is love?’ you started singing that 80s song to make clear just how ridiculous it is” she said.

“I don’t think I put it like this”, he objected.

“You laughed at almost everything I said and rolled your eyes and then padded my shoulder when we were leaving.” One day, back at home I thought about your eyes and that they never remain anywhere, they flip around. They don’t allow. They are like little insects caught in a light beam. And then one sentence you mentioned came to my head after which I decided to take this little notebook and write them all down because they are such a source for me. You said: “You are so little fun, because you would never cross a road without fear.”

“Why are you telling me this?”, he asked.

“To thank you. Thank you for saying all those things. They help me see life from my side of the road and matter less about what people on the opposite side would say. It helped me when I was worn and tired. It made me feel like I would pop out to life again.”

About writingbrussels

Seven Writers. Three Languages. One City.
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