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Everyday musings.
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Writer around the corner blogs
Letters from a Noisy Street
I’ve lived on a noisy street all my life and often envied the quiet neighbourhoods and the people free from the sounds of gurgling engines, the horns, and the scooters whooshing along, wishing to break the sound barrier. In those loud moments, an image of a cabin in the woods looms over my daydreams. Somewhere along the way I started writing. I came to this vocation from a need to be alone, a need for a sense of self.
But as I started writing, people that I have met along the way started pervading the page. The more I wrote, the more I began noticing their quirks—how children look at treats; grandparents hold their little ones; shop owners stand in the doorway looking for a passing gossip. Now, when I walk through the quiet neighbourhoods, the houses seem abandoned and eerie, and I crave the sounds of bustling roads. I’m where I’m needed, listening to the stories of the world. That is what writing is for.
