Skip to main content

The Perfect Ending

She crumpled the paper and made it into a paper-ball, threw it casually. Her eyes were still stuck at the notepad,  at the impression of the words from the page above which she had just rolled into a paper-ball.  That paper-ball alongwith all the other paper-balls that she had been throwing for an hour had unconsciously made into a honeycomb lay arranged on the ground. 

Her phone started ringing. The caller id said, “Sheila”. She did appear a bit mortified on seeing her name but then she let it go to her voice-mail. It has been long since she had started dodging her agent’s call. Every time she would call, she would mock her voice and complete the conversation that would have taken place while Sheila chatted with her voice-mail. “Annie, you are late. You were supposed to send me the draft by today morning”. “I know Sheila, I just got stuck with some work. Only the last bit is pending. I’ll send it to you by tomorrow morning.”  She knew Sheila thought that she was procrastinating but there was only she could do. It was not her fault. But it was certainly easier to dodge her calls than convince her about it.  

She had been trying for so long to put an end to the new story she had sired. The need for the perfect ending was already pushing her over the edge. She had tried everything. Sometimes the words would seem out-of-place, sometimes they wouldn’t be emotive enough. Nothing seemed to satisfy her. Sometimes, her unhinged mind would make her delete the whole draft of the novel that she had already created and want her to start afresh. Thank God for the one that she had burned on a disc and kept it secured in her locker.


This time it was different. She was not pushing herself for another bestseller. She just wanted something that could put her heart to rest, give her some peace. She was agitated. Writing had always given her some ind of solace but this was new to her. This time she felt a personal connection with the story but shecould not figure it out. She was so good at weaving stories that she had never feared any collision of thoughts. Her protagonists, Mira and Jai were in the room and she was supposed to give an ending to their story. She tried picturing the scene in her mind. She knew she would need a lot many rewrites. So, she had wanted to use her laptop. But, suddenly she felt she would do it better if she used ink and paper. She tried getting comfortable in her bed but that didn’t do her any good.  

She finally opened the bottle of vintage wine, her favorite make. She wanted peace of any kind and that’s when she let her hair down. With the glass of wine holding by the stem, she stood overlooking the streets in her balcony and it struck her. It was time that she fought herself and do what she should have done 5 years back when he stood infront of her, asking for her to trust him even when evidences pointed in the reverse direction. She wanted to trust him but she was scared. She failed him when she turned her backs on her. This was the connection. Those memories had come haunting her back trying to take the peace of her mind, the only thing she had celebratory in her life. She needed to apologize to him. Now it didn’t even matter. But, it was the peace of mind that she sought.   
_________________________________________________________
This is my response to the Trifecta weekly challenge, which is to write a 33 to 333-word response  using the following word/definition:
Also, for WriteOnEdge challenge to use the song 'The Black Keys - Gold on the Ceiling '.

Comments

  1. Nice write! I know this feeling of not being able to finish a project; writing it and re-writing it and not knowing where to go next. Hate it!

    ReplyDelete
  2. Such a trial to bring closure to some writing. I felt her pain!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks Morgan ... We all are so scared at some point of time butt we forget it may load us with the burden we might not be able to carry !

      Delete
  3. Hell I can't even start writing sometimes haha :D

    ReplyDelete
  4. Unfortunately the length is cause for disqualification from placing, but this is a great piece nonetheless.

    Thank you for linking up!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Apologies for the same Trifecta... But so glad you read it and liked it :)

      Delete
  5. It's always nice when we are able to put to rest a nagging feeling about something unresolved. I hope she is able to write that ending now, or at least after the apology is given :)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Yea, if only we had the courage to face all our fears :) Thanks Janna for reading!

      Delete
  6. So many have already said so much, my words would simply echo... bravo!

    ReplyDelete
  7. (It's a little long for Write at the Merge as well, but thank you for linking up!) Nice work weaving the physical art of writing with the way it can help writers work through their own issues through the characters they create.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Apologies Angela ... Didn't realise it was above 500 too ... :)
      Thanks anyways for reading :) Glad you liked it !

      Delete
  8. Know that feeling. I tend to do a great deal of playing musical chairs.
    Bit of crit: the idiom is "peace of mind". Peace of her mind sounds like piece of her mind which would be another genre entirely - haha.

    ReplyDelete
  9. Ohhh ... may be I can let it slide for a typo ... Thank you pointing out :)

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Honest Opinion please,

Popular posts from this blog

Trifecta : Rain that saved her ! - Episode 3

It was a Saturday, a normal day-off for everybody else that she had gone to the office with the dying hope of her project meeting its deadline, that they actually met. Both have been working in the same offices for quite some time, more like a couple of years, even sitting in the adjacent cubicles but they had barely interacted; except from the occasional hi’s and the good mornings’. There was always a reluctance, a sheer hesitation in his eyes even when they would rise in order to wish her the same. To everybody, he was just another workaholic who would move out of his cubicle, make a beeline to the pantry, take coffee, and make another beeline back to his place. So, that day, just for company’s sake over lunch, she asked Vishal to join her. And since then, everything had started falling out of place. She had expected it to be a sour company, a dull conversation if at-all. Out of courtesy,they offered each other, Vidya offering him her self-made  matar-paneer  an...

My life in the box

I live in a box. My world may seem strange to you. But, it’s not as bad as you think. It does have holes in it which lends me some fresh air from time-to-time. You may think I must be scared of the big-burly cat living on the outside but I am not. We are kind of best friends. I can listen to all the chatter from outside.  But now I can close my ears whenever I want to without anyone seeing. The holes, I must reveal now, ain’t my best friends either. They complicate things for me because I can’t feel the total darkness here because of them. Just when I am about to, rays of sun from these holes try to illuminate it down here for me as if I am some impotent chap, not capable of doing that on my own. They just don’t get it! So if they are not going to stop playing this naïve game, they are going to get a worthy opponent in me. And so in retrospect, I plastered few of them with black paper. But now, right this moment, I want to live out in the open again, enjoy the warmth...

The Ominous Blood

Since her childhood, she had been very brave. Unlike the other kids who would cry on seeing the first palette of blood she would press her wound hard and let it ooze faster. She somehow reveled in the blood-y flow, as if some witch was trying to purge a part of her soul and she had surrendered completely to it. Every time she would cut herself, she would wait for the gush and wish it never stopped and drenched her to the last drop. Always surprised listening to the wonders of being related by blood, she would ask herself if those blood-kins had blood any thicker, because she was sure hers must have thinned. Every time she would see a girl walking by along with his father giggling, happy, she would turn around and blade herself wishing she could change the blood flowing inside her. It was her blood’s fault if not hers; she was convinced. She even dreamt of getting fanged by the vampires. Looking for solace at any place,  she surmised who better than those kindred spirits in ...