Ritu wakes up at 5:30 a.m. She sits down at her daily writing session to write. But Words do not show up at their regularly scheduled time on the computer screen. She searches for them inside a book lying near her teacup. Her eyes catch them floating from left to right, and from top to bottom. Should I borrow some? She thinks, but dismisses her own thoughts. How could I think of doing that? Words true to Page will feel out of place on a gray screen.
Ritu’s Brain intervenes and sends a message through a tinkle in her toes. She gets up and walks away from the screen and paces the length of the kitchen and dining room. The Sun’s rays brighten the cabinets. The dishwasher sings a song to indicate its job is complete. As she rubs the Orange to smoothen its warts, a strong citrus scent fills the air. Her mouth drools. But she postpones peeling the Orange until after she has written two paragraphs.
Fingers crossed, she sits in front of the panel and stares at it. A folder named ‘Possibilities’ shows promise. She clicks on it. A Microsoft Word document titled ‘Going With The Wave’ appears first. She reads it through. She reads it again and again and again.
Brain signals an itch in her nose. She looks up at the light and sneezes. Achoo! Achoo! Achoo! Sneezes continue for another few seconds. She runs towards the tissue box and examines its lettering. Tiny words ‘trusted care’ seem to be trademarked. Words, Words, Words are omnipresent beings. Yet, they seem adamant not to appear on Ritu’s screen.
She wonders where they may be. Are they resting in a lyrical poem, ballad, sonnet, or a tale? Or, are they in a story I am yet to live?