Jack William Asa Kindred

Creative Process

Creative Process He’s stranded on the platform strapped to his backpack and clutching his laptop bag and looking at the sky because he can’t stand the sight of the rumbling train anymore. A passer-by brushes past on her way to the stairs. “Do you fucking mind?” he shouts. She turns and he sighs. “I’m sorry…” He deflates before she can retaliate. “It’s just –” He trails off and holds his hands up before his eyes point floorward.