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"I don't see spirits. Don't feel them. I'm convinced they don't exist."

This is what I've just written with my late mother's pen on a fresh new writing pad. It's so exhilarating, thrilling, opening a new pad. The fresh clean paper, the smell, the sounds.
Yes.
The sounds. The sounds the trees knew before machines came, before wood became paper. Wind. Birdsong. They're still there.

I look around. My mother smiles and people that I don't know but she does move around me.

I'm writing a drabble about someone who can never believe. Sometimes I wish that it's about me.

3 comments add one below

  • avatar

    Neville Hunt over 4 years ago

    What a very touching drabble. Plenty to think about here, Drew.

  • avatar

    Drew Martyn over 4 years ago

    Thanks as always guys :)

  • avatar

    Drew Martyn over 4 years ago

    RBB lol yes, maybe it's the spirit of paper that gives computers viruses? Thanks Francis, I appreciate that.

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