My boots strike the cobblestones, the chains swaying against my heels. I am walking fast because I hate the feeling of hard heel on stone, I can feel it inside my head, the vibrations make me woozy. I really have to stop wearing these boots. I try to switch to a tip-toe but that looks a bit ridiculous as I weave in an out of the baby strollers littering the pathways.
I look up and my eyes catch the telegraph insulators perched high, glistening in the sun and it reminds me that I have a box of them to put away a work. I always pay careful attention to the blue ones. They seem more delicate than the rest. I repeat the word telegraph in my head, and it makes me think of the last conversation I had with my mother. Well, you could send him a telegram. Who sends telegrams anymore, mom? Well, when your father and I got married…I hear my dad yell in the background; She can just call him too or there is this thing called the Internet.
I smile to myself as I recall my mom laughing. I cross the stones and make my way onto the dock. There is a softness in the wood that makes my feet relax a bit. I think back to the telegram, how the words were transmitted, how anyone receiving and reading a telegram would have felt. Did they read it in their voice, or the party who sent it. I wonder that when I’m reading correspondence. Sometimes I have to really think of the persons voice, if its been a while. I should write this down when I get home, maybe pose a question. Probably half the people reading what I write have never heard my voice, I wonder what voice they hear. No, that’s a silly I won’t pen that.
The dock cradles my feet as I cross above water. Below they are moving some type of seafood into large containers. I cannot see because of the sunspots. Voices are muffled against the bagpipes playing in the background. My pace quickens and the thoughts keep coming, I can feel my chest tighten. I clench my keys in my pocket. Words are swarming inside and there is just so much commotion outside. With each click of my heel there is a new thought. I think back to the telegram and how you only had a set amount of characters to relay something. I wish there was some type of mechanism that could slow down thought.
I reach the grass. My steps are suddenly met with silence. No vibrations, just the swish of the grass under my feet.