The morning started well enough. My train was delayed by three hours, but I was in a fine mood, and spent my time reading and writing sonnets.
Trains are often late, but a WriterCat is always prepared
I rarely have the patience for sonnets, because iambic pentameter really cramps my style, but occasionally I’m up for the challenge.
WriterCats do their best work when curled up in the sunshine. (It’s also where they take their best naps. Which I may have done.)
Then the unthinkable happened. I boarded the train, set my bags down on my seat, and before we’d even pulled away from the station I realized that my journal was not with me. In a panic, I tried to run back out to the platform, but it was too late, we were slowly moving away, and there was nothing I could do.
An unhappy WriterCat curls up to mope. This is a perk of being a cat-like writer: we fold up into small spaces, allowing for optimal moping (and napping) even when limited to one upright seat.
Filled with anxious adrenaline while trapped inside a crowded car does not allow for the typical pacing and scurrying of an irritated WriterCat, so I did what any WriterCat would do: curled up for as many naps as I could fit in to the five hour train ride. Because my journal is where I keep my sanity, and when would I ever have the patience to attempt those sonnets again? Never, that’s when.
There is, fortunately, a happy ending. The next day, a package arrived at home, addressed to me, from Amtrak. I assume my sanity is inside, and when I get home, I’ll be writing a heartfelt thank you to Amtrak.
For now, I’ll fill the blank pages of my aptly named reading material with the thoughts and sentences that just can’t stay in my head any longer. Because there’s just too many words bouncing around inside of me to go even a few days without writing.
Hooray for train rides and happy endings!