Beasts Bounding Through Time

I was running late that afternoon as I trekked carefully down the drive of my apartment complex. It was slick with ice and snow fresh from the night before. There was a chance that black ice was hiding in plain sight on the drive that glimmered. Shuffling my feet so they slid a bit, so I wouldn’t fall, I tried to keep a steady pace because that day I seemed to have lost track of time. I was never late but as of recent everything seemed to be out of sync which wasn’t the usual for me.

I was used to everything working like clock work, I’d wake up, have a coffee and smoke a joint before I’d set myself down in front of my moleskin journal. Then with ease the words, images and feelings that rented a room in my head would usually flow from the pen, to the parchment. But for the last few months, nothing had risen from the depths of my soul and to the pen. It was like all my beloved ideas and inspirations had vacated their rooms, leaving me feeling quite lost with what I was supposed to do with myself.

It was just blank, and that my friends had set me of course.

I threw my brown scarf around my shoulders and pulled my thick knitted jumper around my body. It looked like it belonged to an older woman who liked geometric patterns, which it could have been seeing as I saved it from a thrift store. I was sure I didn’t put enough layers on but I didn’t have the luxury that day to go back into my home and change, I had to deal with it.

On the way to my destination I gave up with the sidewalks, still fearing of black ice, so I stomped my way through the several inches of snow on the side of the path. I made a short work of the walk that way to the small, smokey cafe that we met up in once every few weeks. It always offered the hope of a thick black coffee and a cozy atmosphere that would welcome any passerby. I rushed into the cafe shaking the snow from my long blonde hair with my fingers as I spotted Ville from across the room.

“Sylvie,” he said with a simple smile as I sat down in front of him. I stomped my wet ankle boots on the floor to shake off the snow that clung to the soles and between the heels. Yes, I face the harsh winters of Helsinki with heels. My body heat had melted the snow into the boots, making them turn a dark brown. He raised his eyebrows, amused at my flustered face as I bashed one of my feet hard on the ground to release a chunk of snow that tucked its’ way into the crook where the arch in the shoe met the heel.

“Sorry I’m so late love, I’ve been so out of my comfort zone as of recent,” I explained and pulled the cup of coffee that he had already ordered for me to my lips.

“Thats my coffee,” Ville pointed to the cup my lips were already touching.

I looked down to the cup that was already half empty, he was right! Where was my head? I sat it back down with a sigh, and pulled my real cup of coffee forward. Peering inside of it to find the dark black coffee I was hoping for, just the way I liked it. The man always remembered I liked the shock of the bitter drink.

“See this is what I’m on about! I can’t do anything right at the moment!” I waved my arms in front of me which set Ville into a fit of laughter. I smiled at him, “I have the most awful writers block. It’s killing me. For example Ville, yesterday I attempted to smoke a chip from my dinner plate. I mean, full blown!” My hands dashed out in front of me to emphasis my amazement at my own stupidity. They almost knocked over Ville’s cup. “I put it to my lips and attempted to light it! I also put salt in my tea yesterday too.” I shuddered remembering the shock I got, and the retching that followed.

Ville laughed even harder and patted my shoulder in a feeble act of reassurance. “Sure you weren’t just high?”

“No, not anymore than usual anyway,” I mumbled, becoming a little skeptical of myself. “My head’s all over the place these days, I can’t seem to get anything out.” I looked to my hands, realising I was ripping a packet of sugar apart. I sighed and threw it down on the table. “See! I don’t take sugar in my coffee.” I pointed at the packet as if it had assaulted me as it lay lifeless on the table.

“Deep breath love? If it makes you feel any better I’m having the same problem,” he mumbled through a cigarette between his lips. His nimble fingers slipped into his pocket and found a lighter. “I’ve tried but every song I seem to write is just God awful. My lyrics seem to be more 1980‘s cheese than ever, I sound like a B-Side from one of Duran Duran’s lesser known singles.”


“Weeell, I didn’t doubt that the extra cheese was in you, Valo,” I playfully teased him.

He glared at me and rolled his eyes dramatically. “Don’t mock me love. It’s dreadful times I’m going through right now.”

I nodded, understanding his frustration. I took a sip of my coffee before deciding to tell him my plans for an inspiration break through. “I’m thinking of going up to my cabin up in Simo, well it’s just outside the town. It’s beautiful. There’s only about a hundred people that live up there, its pretty isolated in the winter. A nice little pub up the road and a shop for all your needs. That’s it really, and I can go into town and stock up food for the month so I don’t have to leave.”

“Sounds perfect, that could just be the cure” He nodded. “Is that your parents old place?”

“Yeah, I paid for them to renovate, kind of a 50th wedding anniversary present to them,” I said, convincing myself to go as I spoke to him. “I think I will go there, its quiet up there and I think it’s just what I need to get myself writing properly again.”

There were always points in my life when I needed to adventure out to refresh my brain. As I spoke to Ville about the cabin I realised that my head was going to refuse to work properly unless it got jump started by fresh Lapland air. It was always quiet up North. There were no typical distractions that were usually in my life; like the couple over my flat who thought it was a good idea to allow their kids to jump around constantly to kiddie songs. If anything, the only thing that ever annoyed me at the cabin were the occasional distant howls of wolves that don’t know that they are terrible singers.

“I did that a few years ago actually; it was pretty successful. I came back with Venus Doom, well the sales for that album were terrible....”

“I liked that album, if thats any consolation?” We laughed for a second before something clicked in my head. “You should come with me.” I hoped my eyes flickered with a little plea in them.

“Where to Simo?” He shook his head and blew out a cloud of smoke. “No, I couldn’t. That wouldn’t help you at all love.”

“No, I wouldn’t bother, I mean I have my own little working space up in the loft. We’d never see each other. There’s two bedrooms there. Mine is connected to the loft. I tend to lock myself away so you won’t see me. The other one is downstairs.”

The proclamation was sudden on my part for both of us. We never really spent time with each other unless it was at the cafe, even then we only met up at least once a month. Ville and I had a creative ingenuity pact together, and that was as far as our friendship had gone after the two years that passed along with us in our humble coffee shop.

“Well, I wouldn’t like to intrude,” he said with an air of modesty.

“I offered, so think about it at least?” I threw my hands up over my head as if I was going to fling away the offer, but instead I ended up throwing a bunch of sugar packets into the air. I didn’t even realise my hands had been fiddling with them the entire time Ville and I were talking. The packets landed haphazardly around me. One even fell into Ville’s coffee, leaving drops on the table from the dive. The man fought back his smile as his chuckles threatened to make me embarrassed as I hunched down in my chair with a sheepish grin.