“Loose in the vowels.”  I love that phrase.  I’ve said it for forty years or more.  Some people laugh.  It makes them happy.

My writing feels different – oozy, without a structure.  I wanted to talk about a train today, and maybe I still will.  But perhaps not.

I just lingered for 45 minutes in Panos Langemunt, eating my sandwich.  As I sat down, I made eye contact and smiles with four oriental women – one older and three younger.

As I savoured the tomato, cheese and ham, a flowing language wafted over me.  Lovely.  Eventually I asked “Are you speaking Mandarin?” 

That’s all it took … a simple question.  And we were off to the races about life and living.  Topics appearing and disappearing, carried by the flow of the moments.

The older woman didn’t appear to speak English but one of the younger ones translated.  “She wants to know if you’d like a Chinese girlfriend.”  I leaned towards the curious lady, professing my eternal love.

“No, no … she’s talking about her friend, who lives in China.” 

Oh. 

“Hmm.  I don’t think I can afford the flight.”

Etcetera

I love trains too.  That story will be born tomorrow.