Mass panic

Whenever she has to delete words or sentence from something she is writing she often imagines she hears the desperate cries, the mass panic of those letters who, after waiting all these years to finally get onto a page suddenly find themselves being erased. Like in a scene from a movie, she see’s a huge crowd of people running to get away from a monster, a disaster, coming for them, pleading for life right up to the moment the wave crashes down on them. Like wise when folding laundry, when it comes to finding socks, she hears and feels the love stories of each pair. She hears the laughter and delight when they are reunited with one another, while also witnessing the tears and pain of those whose partners, their other sock, never made it back from the machine (of war?). Never mind she would think to them, there is every chance they might be in the next wash. This feeling also extends to the kitchen where lucky bits of onion that jumped out of the frying pan were saved from certain death or the few bits of food left over found their freedom as they were scraped from their plate, their songs of freedom audible as they fall into the garbage can.