The Writer Read Free

I
woke up, it took me a while to orient myself and remember where I
was. A sudden pang of panic overwhelmed me, after looking around
and not recognizing a single thing. I dove straight into anguish
next when I could not even remember which day of the week it was,
let alone if I had a class to attend.
    Whether or not I liked to
admit it, I was a responsible student and it just felt “wrong” not
to attend class. That said I had a feeling Joy was going to be a
bad influence on my studious habits and a Great inspiration for the
Writer I wanted to become.
    The smell of toast, burned
toast mind you, brought me to the kitchen. “Sorry,” she said. “I
really suck at this cooking thing…” She laughed, dumping the bread
carcass into a compost heap she had in a bucket under the
sink.
    She got more bread out,
shoving it into the experimental laboratory that was her toaster. I
felt sorry for each slice. From the looks of it, their predecessors
had not only been heat tortured, chopsticks had also prodded them,
as Joy had tried to pull them out.
    I grabbed the cup of
coffee she handed me. “Thanks for that, I’m not really hungry
anyway…”
    It’s Friday, I thought to
myself; 10am, Art History elective. Ah well.
    I sat at the table slowly,
Fate had decided for me today. Then, I decided to get up again,
just to make sure she really did think I was strange. “Do you have
somewhere to go?” I asked suddenly embarrassed for still being here
this late in the morning. “I’m sorry. You should have just woken me
when you got up. I don’t want you to be late for anything because
of me.”
    She smiled. “Don’t worry
about it, if I intended to get to class, I would have just kicked
you out.”
    I suddenly felt awkward.
Then again, this meant she wanted me to stay. “Oh okay…” was all I
could come up with as a response.
    “I should probably get
going anyway,” I added.
    “Where are we going?” she
asked.
    I starred for a few
seconds, until my mind caught up with the fact that she was
planning to spend some more time with me. I could barely put two
words in a row, let alone a full-length sentence, so did she not
have anything better to do with her time?
    “Are you going to let me
in on the conversation you’re having with yourself?” She
asked.
    “Sorry” I said. “I was
just thinking that I need to get home, shower and
change.”
    “Sounds good,” she
replied, putting her cup in the sink.
    It dawned on me then, that
she had showered herself and changed. How had I not heard any of
it?
    “You sleep like a big
snoring rock,” she said.
    Great, I snore.
    We walked slowly, in minus
30˚ weather again to the metro. I could not believe she was
actually going to follow me home. I ran the state of the house,
through my mind. Was there anything embarrassing lying around
somewhere in full view? Probably, I would need to ask her to wait
outside while I did a quick tour of the place.
    “What are you thinking
about?” she asked.
    “Nothing...” I
said.
    She shook her head. “If
you wrote down half of what you think about, you’d have a book by
now.”
    I smiled. “I doubt
it…”
    We were now sitting warmly
in the Metro. “People like to read about things they can identify
to, real emotion is what captivates an audience.”
    “What do you mean?” I
asked.
    “I mean… raw emotion is
the common thread among us. Regardless of our background, culture,
and life experience, we all feel. Most people crave Love. We all
want to know ourselves, have direction. We all want to get a
glimpse of the big picture, what the point of all this
is…”
    “True.” What else could I
say? She had just planted a seed in my thoughts.
    I looked at this beautiful
mysterious creature sitting next to me. I felt just by being with
her, I was on the verge of something big. It is hard to explain.
Have you ever felt that someone you were with, held the keys to
something breathtaking, mysterious, life changing? I felt like
Mulder about to