I went up north again...

... and of course, my lovely boyfriend was both boyfriend-y and lovely.

There were a few people that made that trip kinda cool, in random encounter ways. I shall tell you about them!

• The scruffy boy who was crocheting. I pulled out my knitting (in the round, for portability) and his face just quietly lit up and we just created things out of thread until my train pulled up. I gave him a small nod before I boarded; he returned it.
• The very well-dressed man on the final leg of the journey back home. He had some text he was madly scrawling on, circling violently with a black rollerball, while he typed into his laptop. He had a plain, but battered, silver band on his left ring finger. He seemed like he might be interesting to the eye, but possibly disappointing if he ever spoke.
• The 16 year old who went up north to visit his mother. He's in college.
• The cute Virgin employee who told me what changes to do to get home.
• The friendly employees at an Upper Crust who gave me free hot water, sugar and milk so that I could do chai in between changes.
• The tall Scottish girl in Converses and straight-leg jeans reading The Bell Jar.
  

I really want to write. I feel like I'm right in that place. The play were, if the idea is there, the words just seep out of me, like blood. I feel so dry right now though. Descriptions are easy. If I find myself in a place, I could describe it pretty artistically, but... nothing original of my own is happening. I had the idea, the one about the building, and the outcasts and the torture, but I have no idea what story that fits into. I hope it fits into a story. It seems too good an idea to let go of completely.

If I could just fast-forward this summer, and get to the end of September, then I could just spend a week cuddling with my boyfriend. That's a lot more fun than fetching shoes.