“ Phone… check! Bus pass… check! Pencils… check! New notebook… check!” Shouldering her bag once again, Clara felt all set for the new Creative writing class she was starting today. She had been looking forward to it for over a month now, and here she was, waiting for 6:59 to turn to 7.00! There was no way she would miss this one! She will attend this every week, and come out as a writer after 8 weeks. Atleast that was the plan. “Uh Oh! Something’s wrong!” she thought suddenly, with a hint of panic. “I feel that blasted migraine coming on… and the class will be three hours long.” Her face crumpled as she came to the decision, she may have to skip this one after all. This headache wins again. Her shoulders drooped as she started to turn back, but suddenly stopped mid pivot. Smiling to herself, she reached into the depths of her bag. “Saridon… check!
“Excuse me sir, are you done?” I was only into my fourth cup, and heck, I was just getting started! It said ‘free refills’ out front, didn’t it? So no, Lady! I am not, so please leave me alone; and get me another refill please, while you’re at it? The tube light crackled and the soda fountain whirred as I stood holding the cup- “free refills also mean serve yourself, mister”- and I wondered for the thirty fourth time, which shade of blue looks the most professional, but not as much as the black. “Let’s revisit the slides, I had a brilliant idea last evening!” said Jaden Smith, as he walked in office this morning. “Sure thing boss!” I chimed back, summoning forth the best of my fake smiles, from my ever full bag of lies. “The Big Boss is in town next month, and the least he deserves is a professionally prepared update, don’t you think?”, Jaden returned, putting his sweating frappe down on my desk, right next to the coaster I had hopefully set out this morning. “Of course, ...
Elsewhere in twentytwelve, somewhere to the close, She caps her doubts and fears and childhood In a message, in a bottle. She sets it free, the trapped fear, free in the bottle, Hopes she’ll smile when she'll find it on the other side of world and time, As she'll cap her ‘grown-up’ doubts once again In a message, in a bottle. She hopes those fears that she trapped down, Shall not return, shall not come to pass And so she pushed the cork as tight as could In the bottle. She hopes those fears that she set free Shall drift along, far from her, across the world In the bottle.
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