Literary Yard

Search for meaning

By: Ian Fletcher

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He sits across from me
his coffee on the table
cell phone in his hand
surfing, tapping messages
to who knows whom
my ephemeral companion
on the express train.
Portly, middle-aged
he appears neither
happy nor sad
an anonymous chap
seeming simultaneously
there and elsewhere
both present and absent
virtual and physical
an insignificant man
lost in his little world.
I am a fellow traveller
sharing in this space
which is yet no place
flickers of consciousness
in a darkening void
this illusion of being
someone going somewhere
as the train hurtles
us into the future
our destination nowhere.

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Born and raised in Cardiff, Wales, Ian has an MA in English from Oxford University. He lives in Taiwan with his wife, two daughters and cat. He teaches English in a high school. He has had poems and short stories published in Tuck Magazine, The Ekphrastic Review, Literary Yard, 1947 A Literary Journal, Spillwords Press, The Drabble, Dead Snakes, Your One Phone Call, Schlock! Webzine, Short-story.me, Anotherealm, Under the Bed, A Story In 100 Words, Poems and Poetry, Friday Flash Fiction, and in various anthologies. 

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