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I was listening to a new short story by Camille Bordas, when I heard her say something I’d thought privately many times. It was just a few sentences in the story, not integral to the plot or even the theme, really. It was a momentary musing, but I thought it was my musing and, in fact, I was already musing it again, within the context of the scene she was narrating. But then she followed my train of thought into this specific tunnel that I have visited many times during my life. I don’t think I ever assumed I was alone there, but it was strange for it to be suddenly said aloud, directly into my ears as I walked. Obviously, as she was the author of the story I was enjoying; it was actually her train of thought I was following. But it was a familiar journey.
The thought itself is no longer required here; you’re in my carriage now and we’re making our way towards new thoughts about being unique as a writer when someone can make the same observation as you and can then follow it up with the same thoughts. But even a predictable person can still be kind. You want to know the thought, I know you do, so I’ll tell you, and maybe it’ll turn out you also have the same thoughts about this exact thing, and then we’ll have to wonder what the point of any of this is…
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