The Thought

The trouble started, with The Thought, there’s no denying it. If Hugo hadn’t been lost in his thoughts, then the following happenings may not be happenings, but merely things that never were. There is no doubt about it. The Thought was to blame.
You see, to become lost in one’s thoughts is easily done. After all, have you never realised what your mind is like? It’s like a country. It has main roads, where all the important thoughts occur, and pass through. You know the sort I mean. The one’s that make you sit up and think. Then there are less important thoughts slowly going about their way in back alleys and small country lanes. These are the thoughts that aren’t really worth your time and attention, and usually just pass on without you even really realising it was there. However, sometimes, just sometimes, these kinds of thoughts do grab your attention by mistake. This is what happened to Hugo.
Hugo was sitting in his garden on a hot summers day. He was daydreaming about distant lands and other such things, and letting his thoughts wash over him. He was slowly becoming lost in his thoughts, and he started to explore the small, unnoticeable country lanes within his mind. This is where he met The Thought. At first, Hugo did not really understand what was going on. He suddenly found himself standing on a pretty country lane. The hedges were untidy, and severely overgrown. The path was not so much a path, but more of a dirt track. As you may have guessed, this was the kind of route that an unimportant thought may travel through. Then, Hugo noticed it. The Thought. Thoughts can look like anything; it depends on their importance. Some are as big as buildings, where as some are as small as an ant, but you know a thought when you see one. This particular Thought was rather small. It was scampering along up the dirt track muttering wildly to itself. It wore what looked like an over grown blue t-shirt. Perched upon his head, was a red pointed hat, and proceeding from under his hat, was a mass of silver, wiry hair, which extended into a rather long a wiry beard. His beard and hair took up a lot of his face, and all you could really see was a small cherry-like nose, which balanced a pair of small spectacles. Behind these spectacles was a pair of bright green eyes. Hugo was intrigued by The Thought’s appearance; he decided that he had to find out more. This is where the trouble officially began, for if Hugo had ignored The Thought, being an unimportant thought, it would have simply passed him by.
The Thought didn’t seem to notice Hugo was there, until he ran into him.
‘ouhf!’ squeaked The Thought ‘can’t you see I’m going somewhere…oh’ he said finally looking at Hugo ‘your not a Thought.’
This surprised Hugo. He did not expect this…small man like creature to talk to him.
‘is…is that what you are?’ asked Hugo nervously
‘that is exactly what I am. I am a Thought.’
‘how did you know that I wasn’t one?’
‘That’s simple!’ squeaked The Thought as if Hugo should have known ‘you don’t have a Thought Book!’ he said showing Hugo his own.
Hugo hadn’t noticed The Thought Book before. He couldn’t understand why. It was very big, and The Thought looked as if he could only just about carry it.
‘do you want some help carrying yours?’ asked Hugo politely, for he was a very polite little boy. However, this remark shocked The Thought, and he clutched his Thought Book away from Hugo.
‘you can’t touch my book! If you touch it, every thought and idea I’ve ever had to deliver would be lost, forgotten!’
‘I’m awfully sorry. I didn’t realise.’
The two stared at each other uncomfortable for a few moments, then The Thought spoke up.
‘well…I must be off. I’ll be seeing you.’ and he started to edge round Hugo.
‘where are you going?’ asked Hugo
‘I’m off to Notio, the capital city’
‘the capital city of what?’
‘The World of Ideas of course! Fancy not knowing where you were or where you were going! Goodness me!’ and he started to scamper away, then Hugo shouted after him.
‘can I come too?’
‘what on earth for? Why don’t you go home?’
‘I don’t know how to get there.’
‘fair enough, maybe someone can help you in Notio.’
And with that, the rather odd looking pair walked off together, towards Notio.

It took a few hours, and the hours passed very slowly. This was mainly because the two travellers did not know what to say to each other. They just simply walked along in silence. Every now and again, Hugo would ask The Thought a question.
‘So…are there many of you?’ he asked curiously
‘Many of me?’ replied The Thought
‘Yes’
‘No…each thought is individual. We even have our own names and races.’
‘Really?’ asked a surprised Hugo
‘Why yes. My name is Ponder.’
‘Why is that? I thought that u were just a small Thought.’
‘What do you mean?’ snapped The Thought.
‘I just mean’ said Hugo slightly faltering ‘that when you ponder on something, it remains with you for a long time, but you told me that you’re a small and unimportant thought.’
‘And that I am’
‘Then why is your name Ponder?’
‘It’s long. But not as long as it is confusing, and it’s not as confusing as it is strange. Therefore, it shall be saved for a different time.’
‘Oh’ said Hugo, for that’s all he could think of to say
There was a few minutes pause, where both of them felt slightly uncomfortable. Ponder gave a small little squeak, before asking Hugo;
‘So what’s your name then?’
‘Oh, I’m just Hugo’
Ponder stopped dead. His eyes were wide open, and his mouth hung open. It was as if Hugo had said something of great importance.
‘Is your name defiantly Hugo?’ asked a troubled looking Ponder
Hugo gave a small nod in reply.
Ponder merely said nothing except for
‘My my…’
And her continued to scamper on. Soon, the great towers of Notio came insight, as they became closer and closer.
Soon enough, the great sight of Notio was in full view, and it would only be a few moments until they would reach their destination. Before they entered the city’s gates, Ponder turned to Hugo.
‘We must go straight to Dweller, he is ruler of The Thoughts. I think it’s important that we go.’
Hugo nodded as the tall gates slowly opened before him.

Hugo had never before been to such a place. There were, what he presumed to be, thoughts everywhere. They were rushing about all around him, some were even flying. Some were sitting on the ground reading their Thought Books, as if trying to remember what their thoughts were, and others were strolling along, as if not having a care in the world. There were mighty ones, who took up a whole pavement, and were taller than any building Hugo had seen, and others were as small as ants, and ran around Hugo’s feet, desperate to reach their destination