In the underground near Baker street shadows danced at the edge of sight and darkness itself was blacker. At night the Thames grew still and stars descended below the horizon.
Maybe I've gone crazy, but I prefer to believe that I've finally started paying attention.
The magic world wouldn't be magic if it was easy to see, and maybe its only noticeable because I'm out of my comfort zone and if that's the case then I need to never be comfortable again. I understand why so many artist and writers went crazy became addicted to drugs or alcohol; inspiritlation comes from confusion all of literature all of everything comes from trying to understand.
Today, I saw magic--three days ago it takes a while for me to post stuff--the U-bahn doors opened, a crowd entered, took their seats or handholds, the train left the station. It took me a few seconds to notice one of the handholds moving the opposite of the rocking train. Focussing on this hipster of a plastic strap used for stability--do they have names?--I noticed it was pulled taut and bent as if held. for three stops this strap continued to defy physics and rock along opposite of mere gravity, then the doors opened the strap fell limp, people left the train, and the train left the station.
Three thoughts passed through my head; Where was HG Wells's book set? Should I follow this guy? How do you follow an invisible man?
I am now on the lookout for magic, but unfortunately I think thats when you see the least.
This is beautifully written. Keep believing. And even if you don't, keep writing as if you do.
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