I was off to catch a bus the other day and I wasn’t in a hurry so I decided to watch the world go by for a while. I bought myself a Tim Hortons coffee and a few timbits.
What are timbits you ask?
Timbits are the holes from the middle of doughnuts. They’re round balls of doughnut yummyness, and you can get a whole bunch of different flavours without having to plough through a whole doughnut to get just one.
So, back to my story…
Watching the world go by is a very necessary habit for writers to cultivate. I’ve had so many ideas for stories just from observing, not necessarily humans but all sorts of other species, animal, mineral, and vegetable. On this afternoon I decided to observe buses.
Most folk were just going home, but every so often there was someone who was different. They had a certain air about them… perhaps distracted, perhaps looking out at the window as though seeing the passing streetscape for the first, or last, time.
They carried backpacks with mysterious things all zippered up in the side pockets, or long kit-bags with skis or snowboards, or bulky suitcases with foreign stickers on the sides and large well-worn wheels underneath.
These were the people who weren’t just going home, they were going ELSEWHERE, and a part of me wished I was going with them. It was akin to the feeling that sometimes overcomes people at airports. The ones who aren’t flying out, or in, but look up wistfully at the planes and wonder what adventures are about to begin.
This looking beyond the edges of what’s in front of our eyes is the hallmark of a dreamer, an artist, a writer. We look above the horizon and see Elves and Ents, Arrakis and Kelewan, spaceships and final frontiers, and we lean back in our chairs and smile to ourselves because we are wayfarers all.
“I write for the same reason I breathe – because if I didn’t, I would die” – Isaac Asimov