Writing stories and poems is something which doesn’t only happen behind the computer, but apparently goes on even when the writer is attending a funeral or a birthday party. Well, that is probably why I sometimes don’t remember what happened, what was said or who got drunk, but later on people recognise events in scenes of what ever it is I wrote. And I honestly have no idea that the inspiration came from real life. Most of the time.
When I was sitting in a café a year ago this month, drinking a nice coffee and enjoying the sight of sunny weather for January, I was working, okay? I was working with my eyes closed to take in the sun’s warmth and a conversation that was taking place near me, between two women.
“But if she was to marry me, would you still be my lover?”
One sentence and I dreamt away. I thought of a complete scenario. I pictured jealous rivals and passionate encounters. A few weeks later, I used the intriguing sentence in a story of mine.
Half a year later I was on the ferry. I tried to read, but the ferry was in bad weather and I found it difficult to concentrate, as a couple of women in front of me were screaming and laughing.
“… and then she told me she had read about the same situation as we were in. In a novel. There was a line in there, which was exactly how she had said it to me.”
“The exact sentence?”
“Yes! Isn’t it absurd? It was literally what I had said about our relationship and what would happen if…”
That is all I heard about the conversation. The stewardess made an announcement that over shouted the voices.
Agreed, it could have been about another sentence. About another couple, as I never saw the women in the café. But there we go again. In my imagination…