Pics, Pophs and Zombies

Yesterday I was walking down a track by a field. About fifty rooks had gathered in some trees beside the track and were making a hell of a racket in the low afternoon sunshine. It was like they were all talking at once about some massive breaking news in rook-world. Rooks are social creatures, and so are we.

The daily walks with Jerry, my Golden Retriever, are an essential part of my writing process. When I set off from the house I don't think about anything in a conscious way. Then, usually about half way through the walk, or when fifty rooks strike up a conversation, some ideas ping into my head like notifications on a mobile phone. It may be a scene in a chapter which needs changing, an idea for a blog post, or a few lines of a poem. For me, sitting down at a computer or a pad of paper does not usually produce inspiration. I need the free thinking time first.

After the country track, my walk takes me by some houses and across a busy road. Occasionally I meet a human being, but the urban world is mostly filled with Pics, Pophs, and Zombies. Pics are 'people in cars'. They are busy and distracted. I was one of them once. Pophs are 'people on phones'. Sometimes the pics and pophs are one and the same. Zombies have a fixed stare and don't often make eye contact. You can spot them by thin plastic wires coming out of their ears. Crossing the road, I half tripped over some bits of plastic, the remains of broken car trim. When I got home, I wrote this haiku down before I took my shoes off:

Cigarette, sun, mobile phone

Car crash line goes dead.

Rearrange everything.