Small Stones (1-10)

This is my second year of writing small stones in January – small daily pieces of observation. These are the first ten.

Jan 1

Outside the streets are empty. Gradually the world will surface to a New Year. There is an eerie silence in the house save for the occasional sound from the radiators. I open my new diary and wonder how it will be filled this year as I turn over its smooth clean white pages. I hope for a better year for myself and the world.

Jan 2

As the light outside starts to fade, the office begins to chill. I cup my hands round a white mug decorated in black circles and slurp hot milky tea in an effort to stay warm. The back up disk for my imac whirrs into life and its light begins to flicker. I turn my attention back to my work, mindful of what needs to be done.

Jan 3

A few rows of seats empty and a group of stewards surround a man in the West Stand, one pumping furiously at the man’s chest. Eventually he is carried from the stadium accompanied by his family but he is no longer alive.  The game continues. Other than those sitting nearby, few have noticed the sad scene.

Jan 4

Trees bend to the will of the wind once more, the grey skies crowding out the daylight. Rain lashes against the window pain like a soft rap of knuckles demanding attention. The streetlights signal an early surrender to the day.

Jan 5

A few snowflakes amidst bright sunshine is followed by gusts of wind and driving rain seconds later as if nature cannot make up its mind what weather to give us.

Jan 6

The phone rings again, a friend in need of a chat. As it rings and vibrates on the desk, I feel my mind torn from the task I was trying to focus on. I sense that the day is moving away from me and I will have achieved nothing, but I pick up the phone and answer anyway.

Jan 7

Magazines, retained for a purpose long forgotten, are piled high in the recycling bin in a never ending war with clutter.

Jan 8

The kitchen is cold and uninviting. The chicken left to defrost this morning is defiantly solid. A small mountain of washing up awaits.

Jan 9

Little stories from larger stones need to be polished and submitted today. Words must be used imaginatively and sparingly in equal measure.

Jan 10

A slow piano tune, minor chords and soft sad lyrics dictate my writing mood. Words come slowly, jumbled in reflection and loss.


About Peter Domican
Marketer and change professional. Writer and photographer.

2 Responses to Small Stones (1-10)

  1. Rebecca Emin says:

    Wow, Pete, these are powerful stones – the kind you’d use to smash glass with, if you like.

    Jan 3rd is deeply sad. It’s like a whole short story compressed into three lines.

    Jan 6th – God, I can relate to that so much!

  2. Thanks. That’s an interesting analogy. I think I’m on a different tack with my stones. I struggled last year as I was trying to copy other people but this year, they’ve come much quicker with my own voice.

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