Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: CALL (01/14/16)
TITLE: Touching Dreams
By Sara Harricharan
LEAVE COMMENT ON ARTICLE
SEND A PRIVATE COMMENT
ADD TO MY FAVORITES
It’s been a circus of one thing after another—no, wait, a circus has organized chaos and I am the only living and breathing specimen of sanity in the broad spectrum of co-workers that pass through my office. The chaos is all them.
Or fate. Or something. Karma? Yeah. Let’s go with that one.
My feet are throwing a tantrum as I ease them out from three-inch wedge-heeled boots. It’s a stupid sacrifice, but it was my turn to present today and I needed the edge. It doesn’t help that I’m the only woman on the team.
It’s even worse when I’m the shortest and they constantly talk over my head—as if its some kind of inside joke. I wouldn’t take it seriously at all, except for this is my project. Not Jamie’s, not Nathan’s and most definitely not Richard’s.
Mine. All mine.
Nights slaving away at a stupid glaring screen. Half-eaten breakfasts. Crammed weekends. The chipped nail that has now scratched me in the face.
Ow. Freaking. Ow.
A shower is probably a good idea—after I find a nail file. And dinner. Maybe something in the oven? I should have put something in the slow cooker before I left.
It wouldn’t have been that hard except for the whole diet thing. It’s not a diet either, it’s just that I can’t eat some foods because swelling up like a blowfish sucks worse than losing library books and paying replacement fees.
Ugh. Today has been the worst and the previous days weren’t any better. Dragging my bare feet through the thick carpeted floor, I drag myself and most of my accessories with me.
Phone is dropped on the charging station in the kitchen. Purse goes in the closet. Jacket on the sofa. Earrings on the dresser.
Pick up bath towel. Pick up bathrobe.
So that’s where I left it. I thought I’d buried it somewhere—but how did it get to—never mind. I could’ve put it through the wash and the wrinkle remover drying cycle and have zero recollection.
Except that this is The Notebook.
The one with my ideas for this big, beautiful new year. The one with all the grand adventures I had spun together in my head. Half talent, some skill, all wish.
The shower is calling me. I can already feel the hot wet bliss on my aching body.
But this notebook.
My mind never rests and this is just what it wants after a day like today. To start filling in the gaps, the what-if’s and the possibilities for these impossible dreams to come true.
I can’t help the way my brain works. There so much hope strewn through these pages that it makes me want to scream.
If I could just woman-up and use my brain, surely I could do something. There’s enough crazy ideas captured in these pages that something ought to work.
And then I’m sitting on the floor, cross-legged, with the towel and the bathrobe as a makeshift pillow—because I can—and The Notebook just won’t leave my hand.
Just holding it makes breathing easier. Almost as if the new life I’m waiting for is seeping into me by osmosis. Giving in is the better part of this.
The first pages are filled with technical things. Getting a website. Running a blog. Curating fresh, original content. All the good nuts n’ bolts.
Then come the fun parts. Writing weekly articles. Crafting monthly fiction submissions. Designing bookplate covers. Dreaming up characters. Filling in novel templates—and so much more.
Oh I want this.
I truly do.
But I am nowhere near brave enough to do any of it. That takes time and—surely it requires talent. What little I have to call my own is not enough.
So into the shower I go.
But the ideas on the page continue to plague me. I go through the motions of a nice shampoo and scrub, wondering what I should do.
Wouldn’t fifteen minutes be enough to try it out? Test the waters. Brainstorm. Goal plan. Something. Anything. I’d rather try to touch these dreams for a fraction of a second than never at all.
The opinions expressed by authors may not necessarily reflect the opinion of FaithWriters.com.
Accept Jesus as Your Lord and Savior Right Now - CLICK HERE
JOIN US at FaithWriters for Free. Grow as a Writer and Spread the Gospel.