Member-only story
Of writing, aunts, and jiggly arms.
How beautiful is the feeling of sitting before a blank page, trying to string in words hoping to see a shape emerge while being completely unaware of what to write. You are blank and do not know where your words will take you. Sometime early in the afternoon, you tried to scrape the bottom of your mind for an idea, but you had found it dry. You heard the sound of an empty scratch. Now, you sit before a sheet and let your fingers do the magic first before your mind takes over.
By now, when you’ve already written a short para about not knowing what to write, you look at the dark green water bottle lying on your desk since yesterday. Your child had corrected you saying the bottle was red, and not green. You told him you were color blind. He took the liberty to inform the entire world of his latest discovery: his father was color blind.
You take a sip from your dark green bottle and cringe as the water stings your mouth cold from the minty mouth-rinse you swished in your mouth before sitting at the desk. Bulging up your cheeks, you let the water warm up before gulping it down. Finally, the bitter aftertaste of the mouthwash disappears. Hah! Mouthwash always reminds you of your favorite uncle who had accidentally swallowed the blue liquid when you stood before the bathroom door watching him throw up. That was twenty years back. His wife had been screaming from…
