Skipping and Writing

A solution to the blank page?

Francine had stood perfectly still on the balcony for almost fifteen minutes staring at the rainbow. As the sun slipped behind a cloud the rainbow disappeared and she went back inside.

Oblivious to the entire world around him, Francine’s boyfriend was anchored to the couch playing a video game.

“You missed the most incredible rainbow.”

Without taking his eyes off the game Russell replied, “I’ve seen a rainbow before. I know what one looks like. Boring. I’m having too much fun killing people with my thumbs.”

Francine walked past Russell into the bedroom where she changed her clothes. Jeans and a t-shirt. Simple. She gave her collection of heels a cursory glance then opted for flats. Comfy red high-top tennis shoes to match her logo-less red t-shirt.

She looked at her purse and decided that she did not want to carry it with her. She took her keys, wallet, and money out of the purse and put them in the pockets of her jeans. Men are so lucky, she thought. They don’t have to carry luggage around with them.

Francine then went into the kitchen and pulled the package of Mint Milanos out of its hiding place. Taking three cookies out of the packaging, she then returned the package to its hiding place. Three was her self-imposed limit.

Neither Russell nor Francine looked at each other nor acknowledged each other’s presence as Francine walked through the living room towards the front door. Opening the door, she never looked back as she left the condo.

She was alone in the elevator going down to the ground floor. Taking a bite of cookie she tried to remember why she was even with Russell. Did she have some kind of need that he fulfilled? If so, that need seemed to have dissipated much like the rainbow she had watched while on the balcony. The attraction, the excitement and joy, the laughter, the bright colors were all gone.

Where do rainbows go when they disappear?

The rain had been brief but enough to thoroughly cleanse the air. Stepping out onto the sidewalk Francine took a long, deep breath. The smell following a rain had always been one of her favorite smells.

She looked to her left then to her right. Which way to go? She had no destination in mind. She just needed to get out. Taking a bite of cookie she suddenly thought about the river which was nine blocks away to the right. Turning to her right, she proceeded towards the river.

She walked slowly and comfortably — thanks to her flat shoes. The cookies seemed to have more flavor out-of-doors. Could that have something to do with the fresh, clean air? she wondered.

Francine did not bother window shopping the storefronts along the street. Instead her gaze was drawn to the light reflected in puddles and the slowly darkening sky. The sun would soon make its daily exit and there would be no more rainbows today.

She also noticed people. She always did. They were all scurrying about like insects, oblivious to her eyes watching them as she wondered what they might be thinking. They all seemed so serious, not giving off the joyful energy that rainbows project. They did not make her smile like rainbows did. She could almost sense their sorrows, their pain, their anxieties.

She thought of Russell when she saw three young people leaning back against a brick wall, their gaze locked on the phones in their hands, their thumbs going a mile a minute. She also noticed several people walking down the sidewalk, their heads turned down to the phones in their hand. That is when Francine realized that she forgot to bring her phone with her. She never did that. It went everywhere she did.

Laughing, she somehow felt freer without her phone, knowing that she would not be interrupted during her walk.

Suddenly, she was overcome with the urge to skip like a little girl. She did not do it right away, though. First, she looked around her in all directions to make sure that no one was watching her. With the coast clear she broke into a skip. It only lasted for maybe ten paces but it felt really good.

Wow! When was the last time I did that? she asked herself. No answer was forthcoming. It must have been a really long time ago.

Once again, she looked all around her. No one had noticed her skipping and no one was watching so she broke into another skip, this time for twice as long.

When she returned to her normal walking she was giggling. It was as though the body movement from skipping had squirted forth strong intensities of joy. It felt so good. She then took another bite of cookie and proceeded toward the river.

By the time she reached the bridge she had finished her mint milanos. She walked to the very center of the bridge and after wiping cookie crumbs off her hands she held on to the metal railing and leaned forward to look down at the water. The water in the river was flowing toward the bridge. For a moment it seemed like the bridge was a giant opened mouth and the water was flowing into that mouth. Francine smiled.

Then she turned around and walked across the street to the other side of the bridge. Looking down, it seemed like the bridge was gushing out water. She imagined being a drop of water in that river heading out to sea.

For almost half an hour she stood at that bridge railing looking down at the water flowing under her. She imagined it flowing through her, fully cleaning her out of all negative thoughts; indeed all thoughts. She became an empty vessel for the river to flow through.

Eventually, she finally broke her river trance and looked up into the twilight sky. The first twinkling stars were now out.

Francine felt better than she had in months, if not years. She felt utterly rejuvenated. Halfway home, while no one was around, she skipped again for a while. It felt so wonderful.

Back home, she walked across the living room on her way to the bedroom. Russell, who was still sitting on the couch playing his video game asked (without looking at her), “So what’s for dinner, honey?”

“I already had dinner.”

“What?! Whatdya have?”

“Cookies.”

“What?! So what am I supposed to eat?”

“I don’t know. I’m sure you can figure it out.”

And that is when Russell finally diverted his attention away from the video game. He stood up and turned around just in time to see Francine’s back as she entered the bedroom. He followed her in there.

“So whatya been doin’ all this time besides eating cookies?”

“I went for a walk.”

“You went for a walk? I thought you were here all this time.”

Francine said nothing as she sat down on the bed.

“Man, I’ve gotta pee like a race horse.” Russell proceeded to the bathroom.

While Francine listened to the sound of Russell urinating she took off her pretty red tennis shoes. Standing, she picked up a book from atop the bureau. She bought it almost a month ago and still had not started to read it. With book in hand she got into bed. She had been wanting to read more but never seemed to find the time.

Eventually, Russell came out of the bathroom, “So baby, ya wanna fool around?”

“Nah. I’m not in the mood.”

Russell stood there for a very long moment watching her pretending to be reading, “Well, guess I’ll go in the kitchen and see what I can scare up.”

After he left Francine put down the book. What she really wanted was to start writing again. She had not done any writing since Russell moved in. She had been keeping journals since she was a little girl and had always dreamed of writing the next great blockbuster bestselling novel but now she no longer journaled and she could not for the life of her come up with the first sentence of that novel she knew was inside her somewhere.

Reaching over to the drawer of her bedside table she pulled out a tablet of paper and a pen. Pulling her knees up she rested the pad of paper on her legs. She put the end of her pen in her mouth and started chewing on it.

That is when her thoughts went back to her walk. She thought about how she started skipping down the sidewalk like a little girl. It was so spontaneous and weird that she did that. But it felt so good! It seemed to make her body and soul come alive.

Hmm, she thought. How can my brain go skipping down the sidewalk? Would that make my brain come alive? Would that result in words spewing forth? Is that the way to start writing?

As Francine stared at the blank paper she wondered how one goes skipping with one’s brain.

Copyright by White Feather. All Rights Reserved. This is a work of fiction. Complete White Feather Archive Index

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