If so I Can't Imagine Why, Part 1 of 2

"I take it this means we'll be having more adventures. If so, I'm delighted."

"We have many adventures, Mr. Gryphon. I just don't take the time to write them down or even to articulate them to myself or to you," I say. A man shoves past me on this crowded sidewalk. Everyone seems to be in a big hurry. Mr. Gryphon glares at him, but says nothing.

The sidewalk and the huge concrete and glass buildings stretch out in all directions. Traffic is horrendous in this place. It's like New York City, but with the gloves off. Shouts and beeping horns sound everywhere.

"I was thinking earlier that I should abandon my fiction writing efforts. It's true I have lots of stories waiting to get out, but I can't seem to make any headway with the second draft of this novel I wrote," I say. Mr. Gryphon stops on the street and just stares at me. I stop a few feet in front of him. People are pushing past me. Without taking his eyes off me, Mr. Gryphon opens his wings to their full width and then extends his huge claws. The people stop and then begin to scurry around us.

"I'm only going to say one thing, Miss Turtle, and that is you haven't even given this novel writing thing a proper go at it."

I look down. I can see people's feet going past me. "I know," I mumble.

"Writing is good. I'm a huge fan of it, particularly if you're telling the stories," he says.

"Perhaps you're my best audience. Perhaps you, my imaginary friend, are right," I turn and begin to walk again. Mr. Gryphon closes his wings and retracts his claws. "Maybe I just need to take a Creative Writing course," I say.

"Now you're talking."

"Excuse me, what time does your watch say?" asks a man who has stopped in front of me.

"11:37," I say. Mr. Gryphon doesn't have a watch. The man moves on after looking at him for a moment.

"I tried talking to you while I was walking towards the Posh Bagel place this morning," I say.

"I know, I was walking behind you."

"Mr. Gryphon, why can't you be my boyfriend?"

"You ask that a lot, Miss Turtle," he says then he looks around, "Where are we going?"

"I don't know. I don't know."

A woman wearing a silver fur coat stopped me, "My diamond watch has stopped cold dead. What time is it?" Her watch was beautiful and sparkling.

"11:41."

"I'm trying to beat the clock," she says. She is pretty with a warm smile. We move on.

I sigh. "I guess this is what it's all about. All this hurrying and shoving around." We are stopped again at a huge intersection. Cars are lined up and down. We are waiting our turn to cross the street.

"At least you don't have to think past the last mile, Miss Turtle."

"It wouldn't be a bad thing to have to think only about the next step, eh Mr. Gryphon?"

"No, it wouldn't be a bad thing." I smile to myself. He reminds me someone and for last few posts I haven't been wincing so much at the reminder.