Literary Yard

Search for meaning

By: Ian Fletcher


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.


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,, Anotherealm, Under the Bed, A Story In 100 Words, Poems and Poetry, Friday Flash Fiction, and in various anthologies. 


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