A BULB OF IDEA

She sat in front of her rented computer. She tapped her hands on the table, then, started typing. She was doing well in the first two paragraphs, and then she read it. She was not satisfied with her work. She glared at the computer, hard, and long. What will she write?
In her imagination she could see herself all dressed up. She was to receive an award – a writing award. She was a well-known novelist, one of the most successful women in her time. She waved her hands to the audience while coming up the stage and then finally, when it was her time to give her speech, she thanked first God, next her family and friends, then her patriots, and finally, her teachers.
In a flash, her senses went back to reality. How could she win a novel-prize award if she could not even write a narrative or a descriptive feature? She thought again, harder this time. “What does interest me?” she asked herself under her breath.
“There are a lot of things that interests me, but what is the best thing? If only I could choose one, then maybe, I could finish an article. God, please help me, I need this, and it is my only chance to pass this subject. If I can’t come up with something, I’d definitely flunk this subject.” It was as if she was arguing to another person.
Then she thought hard again. Then a flashback came to her mind. She was sitting at the end of class. Men surrounded her her age. She was the only girl in that side of the room. She was fifteen. The professor was moving around, making sure that no one in that exam could get away with a high score by cheating.
She was nervous. She had believed that she was good in Mathematics, her elementary teachers would agree, they even sent her to contests and she would always make sure that she would bring home the bacon. But not this teacher. She could feel that he could see her insides and she knew that he knows exactly what she was thinking. She hates Geometry and she could not answer the questions. The teacher glanced back in her direction then smiled.
She gave up her ambition to be an accountant because of that. She believed that there would be plenty of Geometry if she would take up the course. She was on her third year in high school and she had to think of a course to take. She had only a year more to go before entering college.
“Reading writing, and imagining interest me more than anything else in this world!” she suddenly exclaimed. She literally jumped out of her seat while she said that, she had just made a scene some people were staring at her.
She sat down. “How could I make a story out of those three?” she thought.
“Click-clack, click-clack.” The sound of the watch seemed like music to her. She started typing again. She had managed to write five paragraphs now, but the things she wrote did not make any sense to her.
She looked at her rented computer keyboard. It was black as a crow. She looked at it intently then suddenly; everything seemed to blend in its darkness.
She then saw herself standing on the most breath-taking view she had ever witnessed. She could see butterflies of different colors flew everywhere. Fruit-bearing trees were in the exact places where she wanted them to be. Everything she could think about was there popping up like popcorn. She knew she was in her favorite place, her very own “fantasy island”.
She spent ten whole minutes daydreaming. She scratched her hair. “Ugh! This is too hard!” she thought. She had many ‘brilliant’ ideas for a feature story, but she could not write anything at all. If she could, by any chance, she could not finish the story.
“What will I do now? Should I write about my infamous love story and pretend that it wasn’t mine? On the other hand, should I write about my not-so-good experiences? Or maybe, I could write about how I and my best friend broke our bond because I suddenly got tired of understanding her? Nah, that could be something, but well, maybe I’d be biased and I’d put all the blame to her.” She was talking to herself now, good thing all of this was only in her head. People could have mistaken her as a crazy girl if she had said that aloud.
“My computer rent would be my dinner money if I just sit here wandering around in the world of fantasy. I should write something!”
She looked around, maybe she could find an ‘inspiration’ to help her out, then she saw the fluorescent light…
”Eureka!” she was smiling to herself now… she finally knew what to write.
Now she sat there in front of her rented computer. She tapped her hands one more time. She smiled, and then started typing. She knew this time she would finish an article.


September 3, 2008