Short stories

Untitled thoughts

She couldnt decide what to write. Her mind felt as blank as a new sheet of paper. Her pen was poised, and still as if frozen in time. What to write and where to begin was the two things going though her mind. And then a thought struck her, from nowhere, out of the blue. It was as if a lightbulb had suddenly clicked on, lighting up the darkness, and opening the doorway to new possibilities.

A whole new life was there, just beyond her reach, hidden in the recesses of her mind, just itching to be put through her pen, waiting to be mortalized on paper. With a small smile of consternation, that would soon blossom and grow, she set to work. Her pen scribbled across the paper, words flowly freely as if life was suddenly breathed into it.

Her paper which had looked like a barren wasteland was now blossoming with life. Word after word appeared, like an oasis in the middle of a desert. Words became sentences, sentences became paragraphs, paragraphs became a page, a page became a chapter, a chapter became a rough draft, a rough draft became a book. She couldnt stop writing, ideas gushing out of her head like a fountain.

She smiled a small smile, happy to know that the ideas running through her head were finally coming to life. Her story was having life breathed into it. It was like giving birth to a child and she was its mother. She was giving birth to it, giving it life, allowing it to grow as she nurtured it along. This was her child, born not from her womb, but of her mind.

Her pen was slowly coming to a halt, but not because she was running out of ideas, but more of like because she was running out of space on her paper. She needed to stop. For now. She wasnt worried though. She knew she would return. She knew she would finish.