(Excerpts as I can best remember from talking to someone at a cafe. This is someone I’ve been seeing around a bit over the last few weeks. Just lately, we’ve gone beyond the silent acknowledgement stage and have chatted a little. And today the conversation changed from just small talk.)
“What am I writing about? Do you really want to know?
“I’m trying to think about what to do.
“To do about what?
“Let’s face it, we all know we’re knackered if we don’t do something soon. Too many of us. Not enough resources. Finite resources. World hotting up.
“We’re going nowhere if we just bumble on. Nowhere but early graves.
“Early graves as the main course. With misery as your starter. Served with lashing of hardship. And sadness. And wars galore.
“Sorry. That’s all a bit heavy.
“So, what to do? That’s what I keep thinking about – what to do with all that piling up.
“Well, you asked …”
“What would I have for a photo? Oh good grief – I don’t know. What’s the photo of? What I’ve been talking about. You mean the world’s pressures? Or do you mean indecision?
“How about some scattered clouds or something like that. There are pretty good clouds today. Clouds. Go for messy clouds.”