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ONLY ENTRY WITH MULTIPLE EXITS
#TheWritingProject
I waited and waited for a long time, but nothing seemed to be happening. My desire and dream to win the writing project, to get recognised and bask in its glory made me wait a while longer. I had send the content and story but the results weren't announced yet. I was on the verge of totally and competely giving it up, when all of a sudden, an email popped up on my phone. With my marathon running heart and holding my breath, I opened it to find an advertisement for some job. What a lucky day it was for me, I thought. Then again I had never seen luck appear directly before me, but I had happened to get glances of it here and there in the shadows. Well, all in all I had lost hope.
That night I slept rather peacefully, comparing to the previous nights. Early morning, nature's call got me up at around 4am. Again I laid down to sleep, but some sound was constantly coming from the beside table. Being in a drowsy state, I neglected it at first, but it grew louder and louder, until I opened my eyes to the eerie darkness before me. Guessing that it probably was my dream I tried to make better assessment of my surroundings and found out that I was in a pretty big room, with lots of paper or rather files laying around. Gropping the walls I found the light switch and turned it on. The first thing that caught my attention was an image, no, it was my image in the mirror. I was aroung mid fourties with a few grey hairs, round rim spectacles, an a suprisingly six pack body. For a teenager like me, this was mouth watering, and yes, I was handsome. So I had become a man all of a sudden. My curiousity was intrigued as I badly wanted to explore the lower part of my body. But before I got to that, something caught my attention. It was the file on the table with the heading of writers project, the hunt for a talented writer. Wow, it was no joke to find the manuscripts surrounding me were that sent for the competition. Right away, I started reading all that was before me. Waves of emotions rolled over me as I continued to go through each of the manuscripts. The emotion, the depth, the style, the life in each of these entries were a life changer for me. Now I knew where I stood, my stand. I was no where near to perfection, but was rather imperfectly imperfect. Learned my lesson. Need to go back and make amends, was my current thought. I closed my eyes and slowly breathed in and out. On opening my eyes, nothing changed. I tried again and again. Nothing seems to work. It was like I got trapped into something for which I waited all along.
I panicked and started to run along, tried to open the door, but it wouldn't open. I was like a trapped mouse. I started to get claustrophobic. I couldn't breathe in a while, I needed help, but here I lay helpless. Suddenly something fell on my head. It was another manuscript with my name on it. With shaking hand and shaking breathe, I looked into it and started reading it. It was what was happening to me right now. This what I was experiencing was the story written by me. I had somehow stumbled into my own story. Here in the story my only way out was left to the readers imagination.
© PS
I waited and waited for a long time, but nothing seemed to be happening. My desire and dream to win the writing project, to get recognised and bask in its glory made me wait a while longer. I had send the content and story but the results weren't announced yet. I was on the verge of totally and competely giving it up, when all of a sudden, an email popped up on my phone. With my marathon running heart and holding my breath, I opened it to find an advertisement for some job. What a lucky day it was for me, I thought. Then again I had never seen luck appear directly before me, but I had happened to get glances of it here and there in the shadows. Well, all in all I had lost hope.
That night I slept rather peacefully, comparing to the previous nights. Early morning, nature's call got me up at around 4am. Again I laid down to sleep, but some sound was constantly coming from the beside table. Being in a drowsy state, I neglected it at first, but it grew louder and louder, until I opened my eyes to the eerie darkness before me. Guessing that it probably was my dream I tried to make better assessment of my surroundings and found out that I was in a pretty big room, with lots of paper or rather files laying around. Gropping the walls I found the light switch and turned it on. The first thing that caught my attention was an image, no, it was my image in the mirror. I was aroung mid fourties with a few grey hairs, round rim spectacles, an a suprisingly six pack body. For a teenager like me, this was mouth watering, and yes, I was handsome. So I had become a man all of a sudden. My curiousity was intrigued as I badly wanted to explore the lower part of my body. But before I got to that, something caught my attention. It was the file on the table with the heading of writers project, the hunt for a talented writer. Wow, it was no joke to find the manuscripts surrounding me were that sent for the competition. Right away, I started reading all that was before me. Waves of emotions rolled over me as I continued to go through each of the manuscripts. The emotion, the depth, the style, the life in each of these entries were a life changer for me. Now I knew where I stood, my stand. I was no where near to perfection, but was rather imperfectly imperfect. Learned my lesson. Need to go back and make amends, was my current thought. I closed my eyes and slowly breathed in and out. On opening my eyes, nothing changed. I tried again and again. Nothing seems to work. It was like I got trapped into something for which I waited all along.
I panicked and started to run along, tried to open the door, but it wouldn't open. I was like a trapped mouse. I started to get claustrophobic. I couldn't breathe in a while, I needed help, but here I lay helpless. Suddenly something fell on my head. It was another manuscript with my name on it. With shaking hand and shaking breathe, I looked into it and started reading it. It was what was happening to me right now. This what I was experiencing was the story written by me. I had somehow stumbled into my own story. Here in the story my only way out was left to the readers imagination.
© PS
