Tramline

He awoke one day with the idea of installing a tramline on a ship, with trams that would run from one end of the ship to the other.  It seemed that just before he awoke he had not just the idea but also a practical plan for his vision and that all he would have to do would be to put the plan into action.  Once his eyes were open and he was in the land of the wakened morning light and the fresh air of a Tuesday, he found that the idea was all he had.  He pulled on his shoes in his excitement and then took them off and starting again, dressing in the correct age-old order of shirt and socks and trousers and then a shirt and a jumper and a coat.  Finally he put his shoes back on.

The shoes had big holes in the bottom.  He would not have to worry about holes in his shoes once his plan was complete.  Soon no one would want to even consider a ship without a tramline, and he would be able to buy all the hole-less shoes he could ever wear.

He started implementing his plan by going into his back garden and examining what he had to work with.  An old row boat, grown-in amongst the weeds.  It would be collecting rain were it not for the fact that it too had a hole in its soul.  He would need a bigger boat.  Some tram line.  Some trams.

By lunchtime he had achieved little.  The telephone rang and he moved towards it, peeling his shoes off his feet and walking softly across the carpet.  Once he had reached the telephone he picked up the newspaper and began to read the obituaries.  After twelve rings the uninteresting life of the call joined the list of the dead.

He decided to go for a walk, and climbed the hill by wet winter footpath, water seeping through to his feet whilst he batted away the overgrown foliage that lined the path.  From the top of the hill he had a clear view out to sea and the boats that swept through the waves, conducting an everyday business that he felt somewhat removed from.  His business today had been one of installing trams onto ships and he had so far failed.  It seemed that as with everything else, there had been a large gaping hole in his tram/ship plan.

On his way back home, as the wet winter blues built up around him, he felt very far away indeed.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s