Midmost day

I took an opportunity to add a little to a character already developed by the talented Watt (Celluloid Trances). Fun to write in this style and capture a little happiness. In case you didn’t see it, link to post here, some writing mine, some Watt’s.


Midmost Day

A hundred paper lamps were floating across the river as the sun was going down, scorching everything in moody orange. Jim touched the strips of sunset colors with his cheek, in shiny, shiny leather, and gazed at the magnetic plunges of serial suits and ties, boxer shorts, and bright shirts rolled up. The tender September moments fleeing into the mirroring glass of office buildings, and the chemise of the day was golden, with sneezes and smoke settling snugly into the sparkling air.  

Things look different in this effervescent glow, like the light itself highlights the cheekbones of the riverbank, darkens its eyelashes and dilates it’s pupils. Some unreasonably complimentary filter that softens thoughts and faces, and a low electric hum crossing wires and connecting the disconnected souls on alternate sides of the riverbank.  Floating frequencies and bridges where there were moats and dissolving moonless September nights in the glistening water.

With teeth like piano keys, children smiled, and faces came out of the horizon, as parents shuffled and bumped into each other to reach the riverfront. Jim had the unwavering faith of starting an adventure, seeking inspiration from the suburban parental, familial satisfaction, and the Christopher McCandless, exploration of the wild. He thought he had enough age on his head to have it all. And his compact home, he remembered, had seeping pipes and now it beckoned him to go bathe in waterfalls, and not showers; climb more mountains, and less beds. This dream in his mind collided with the clanging of the barefoot footsteps on the bridge. He stared wide-eyed, short dressed into the seams, where the blankness made him move slowly to complete a scene of revelry. Just roping him with the clutch of its happiness. Cartoons from newspaper stands flew in the animate the sky, and he propagated himself into the fields of long, brunette haired people. 

There’s a shared frequency here, and Jim tunes in to the atmosphere and turns the radio waves up until he can feel the air grow loud with the sound of his favourite song. It’s the kind of coincidence that feels like destiny and reverberates from somewhere within his chest until he cannot help but hear the beat of his own heart and the sound of his own hum.  It’s a realisation, and before he knows it, his vocal chords open to the tune of possibilities, happy birthdays and gratuities sung in some hidden place of adventure. He sees his name rolling in the credits, words tumbling everywhere ready for him to collect with his pen in the cinematic release surging through him as he dances in the sunrise of tomorrow.

25 thoughts on “Midmost day

    1. Very kind of you to say this, I mean, very kind!! It’s definitely more in keeping with Watt’s style, but it was fun to write in a different way to how I normally write. I don’t naturally find the vibrant images and context that he does, so that was a challenge for me.
      Thank you Andrew, means a lot.

      Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you dear friend. Yes, it was Watt’s character and his style, I joined in… It was a challenge to step outside my usual writing comfort zone but also comforting to have a particular style in which to aim for. Glad you still saw some of my heart there. ❤️❤️


  1. Wonderful imagery, honey. So evocative and rich.
    Your styles blend so well, you could be two halves of the same writer, it worked SO well. Such a great collab, R.
    Two talents among us

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Well, well. well… you two… I cannot even distinguish between the two imaginations, the two souls, the two dreams. The writing is flawless like it was written by one person: Rachel y Watt ( as in José Ortega y Gasset).
    The atmosphere is stunning, surreal, dream like. No automatic writing, yet some soft juxtaposition of unbelievable imagery is clearly present.

    “This dream in his mind collided with the clanging of the barefoot footsteps on the bridge; With teeth like piano keys, children smiled, and faces came out of the horizon; words tumbling everywhere ready for him to collect with his pen in the cinematic release surging through him as he dances in the sunrise of tomorrow.”

    Every line is breathtaking. Everything is as surreal as Dali’s paintings. Jim is a vehicle who brings up the challenges of the subconscious.

    This is a piece that deserves to be featured on the first page of every literary journal. People were surprised when Patrick Modiano got the Nobel Prize in literature ( I wasn’t. I love Patrick Modiano, but I am odd :)) They certainly will not be surprised when you two get that prize.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Gabriela…..
      I am completely knocked off my feet with this comment… I’ve had to walk away, spend some time smiling to myself in disbelief, then come back to it about 3x to reread and digest. I’m still digesting. This is extraordinarily high praise coming from someone whose literary genius and knowledge I respect at the highest level. Dali???! Wow (fun fact, my brother has a tattoo of Dali which I always covet a little, and I sought out everything Dali I could when I travelled in Spain), so this is MAGNIFICENT praise. As for the rest… I wish I could take more credit, but really I can’t, that goes to Watt.
      Thank you my dear friend. You have put a big spring in my step and a smile on my face. Love and hugs xoxo

      Liked by 1 person

      1. My dearest R, I am not a literary genius, and you and Watt deserve the praise. Honestly, the piece is breathtaking.
        “fun fact, my brother has a tattoo of Dali which I always covet a little” Haha. Doubly funny because last year I was thinking to get one too 🙂
        The piece made me think of Dali’s paintings.
        Hugs, flowers, chocolates for one of my dearest fiends in the entire world.

        Liked by 1 person

      2. So much in here G, it would be easy for me to write a mini novel in response, but then, that’s what you do, your words inspire… a tattoo of Dali, maybe one day huh??!! 😂.
        I looked up the authors you mentioned in your comment, and I am astounded…

        And, I am happy, so unbelievably happy to be considered one of your dearest fiends – or friends, or both. Maybe both, that use of fiend seemed affectionate and may be fun to live up to. A fiendish friend 😂. You have no idea what this means to me G.

        You, my dear, are the best. I’m sending extra love and extra tight hugs in the hope you can feel them all the way over the oceans. Chocolates too, I never forget those. I think of you often, and I hope you are doing ok

        Liked by 1 person

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