Tweet

I'd arrived early to the station on this, my last day in Cornwall. 'Early' meant that nobody was there yet, but me. I stood and stared out to sea, at the boats, at the sky, at everything, in fact, that is St Ives. It was a rare thing to be alone at the train station, I thought. And then a tweet interrupted my musings. It wasn't one of those fake tweets you'd receive on a phone or an ipad or a laptop. No, I don't like those kinds of tweets anymore. This, my friends, was the real thing, a real tweeting from an actual place near to where I stood. I looked around, and then found it standing, down near my toe. I don't know what kind of bird it was, and even if I did it would probably be called something else altogether, back home. But it sure was a cute little thing.

It danced and hopped around at my feet, very nearly landing on one of them. I was sure it was looking at me, and felt that it might be on a mission, a mission of mercy, tweeting me away from the melancholy that comes of leaving a wonderful place. It hopped and danced around for a long time, entertaining me until the traveling hoards began to descend. You could almost feel the humanity sucking up the air as great gobs of people came tramping, hustling and bustling, and crowding around us. I looked up at them for only a moment, the tiniest of seconds in my distraction - then when I looked down again, my little friend had gone. It was too much for her and she felt she had to go. 

And so, now, must I.


See you along the way!
the SconeLady