The other night while watching TV my husband started talking about his current project at work. I nodded and said “Hmm” at the right intervals but I was listening to the voices in my head. I was a thousand miles away in a distant world, a fantasy realm where anything is possible, where adventure, mystery, horror and romance are a daily occurrence. Eventually something snapped and I felt consumed with guilt. I had to reel myself back in like a fish. Greetings. Welcome back to earth.
Likewise, at times when we watch the news my husband asks, “What did he say? I didn’t catch the last sentence.” I answer, “I didn’t catch it either.” Yeah, right. Those voices in my head again. The least I could do is listen to my poor husband complain about his insufferable colleagues, or answer a simple question about the news.
Sometimes I wonder if these voices in my head are a blessing or a curse. They’re with me while I cook, do the laundry, take a shower, peel apples, drive (dangerous, keep your head on the road!) Faceless beings whisper, asking to be future protagonists. Scenes flow as crystal clear as the waters of an Alpine brook. Sparkling dialogue, drenched in mystery, slides like a kid on a sleigh and resonates through both sides of my brain. Oozing with snakes like Medusa’s head, my ripe mind seeks the relief of pen and paper, and the calming drug of solitude.
One thing is for sure —I never feel lonely.
Now I have to make certain my husband doesn’t read this post.