I do miss you folks when you're not around every day or more accurately every post. When I noticed my attitude had changed a bit when the number of visits was down, I had to ask myself why I write. I remembered when there were no comments option and no sitemeter code. I wrote to write and now somewhere along the way, I feared writing to be read had crept in. Maybe, it was something simple and innocent like my desire to make folks happy which had caused the change, after all now I knew I had readers and readers like to read.

The last book I read on writing almost off handedly mentioned that writers want their works to be not only read but re-read; when I read that I thought that's another reason why I don't feel like a writer because so far I either was writing just for the sake of writing or I was writing because I was knew I was being read, and it may be splitting hairs but those are both different than writing to be read.

I'm not certain my motivation to write has ever been to be read, at least not read by my contemporaries, even though I think it's really swell when they do.

When working construction I'll sometimes write dimensions and notes on pieces of wood or whatnot and then affix the wood or whatnot message side down, so if it's ever removed my handwritten words, symbols and numbers might be seen.

When I ever come across other people's markings that are left much like I leave my own, they cause me to wonder about the author. I think I write because I want the mere chance to be read, I want to be some new found mystery to some unknown reader in the future and it doesn't have to be grand and it can be completely secret.

In a book I read about the Lewis and Clark expedition, the author retraced the steps of the famed explorers and the author stated that on some obscure ledge off the traveled trail, where most likely the explorers waited out a storm, someone carved '1804' on the backside of a large rock. It was said that the now faint weather worn depressions could still be seen in the present day. I think that's cool.


...

Lost in my own world like I am every day on the way to work, I heard someone call out.

"So, you're going to just walk by me." I was passing by the second car of the trolley. I had been meaning to call her. I had been missing her but I have a hard time justifying my presence in her life, so sometimes I don't contact her for awhile. But hearing her voice brought joy greater than any guilt I felt from not calling her.

I looked up at her as she looked out the driver's window. I was beaming as I explained that I didn't know she was working the morning shift.

"Someone has a birthday coming up."

I wasn't at my best for smartass replies or any other types of replies so all I could muster was a soft "Yeah, I know."

"I was thinking Paris."

I still couldn't quite get my mind to work. I wanted to tell her that I was missing her, that I wanted to call and some other things too but I couldn't find the words and the delay was getting too long so I said "Paris, huh?"

"Yup"

"I'll keep it open," I said as she was shutting her window as the trolley edged forward.

I really don't care much for traveling to Paris. I seem to have had my fill the four or five hours I had spent there a few years ago. It was a spur of the moment type thing when we were in London, on our last full day we decided to take the Eurostar to the Capital of France.

We traveled first class which came with lunch on the way and dinner on the way back. Towards the end of dinner, I noticed that they would clear away what dinnerware they could and that there was more than one steward doing such, so I pocketed the little custom glasses that the red wine was being served in.

I wondered if they counted those things. I assured myself that the train line factored petty theft spontaneous souvenirs into the price of each ticket.

Continuing on my way to work, I thought about how much I would like to spend some time with her and at this point, it doesn't matter much where, I'll even go to Paris if I have to.

...

"He's my best customer, ever," is how D² finished introducing me to the new waitress.

"Best of all time?" I asked after I said hello and shook Caroline's hand.

She then took a serious tone as she asked "What do you think I'm lying?" Much like me she'll stare you right in the eye when she's challenging you.

"I think you might be exaggerating a little," I said as I dropped my gaze down and away over the bar towards the stainless steel dishwasher.

"Nope. You're the best of all time."

I just smiled and let her win that argument.