Silence echoed deeply throughout. Languishing within the walls like an unwelcome guest.
The Writer stared down. Urging thoughts to roll forth.
“Just one more, I just need one more.”
But The Thoughts would not release the words to The Writer. They fought him battling with sparked Sabers in the night.
“You will not have us. We will dodge you. We are free from you.”
The Thoughts hid themselves in the back of The Writer’s mind, like mischievous little children in an everlasting game of Man Hunt. Forever dodging between the Synapses and lobes. Occasionally playing Ring around the ID. They enjoyed this game. Teasing their foe with their potential. Lashing out with teasing phrases that might suggest new ideas, but never loud enough to be found.
The Writer reached up to his forehead to massage his temple, bringing forth comforting heat that might comfort The Thoughts out of hiding. That often helped.
One or two thoughts poked their heads out of the corner, sensing a better warmer place to hide; they began to creep forward.
“…Something is…yes I have an ide……”
But they would not be so easily trapped, their brethren called out “Look out! He’s coming your way!” and so Rogue thoughts dashed away, gleefully to their hiding spots.
The Writer slumped back down. Almost an idea for something, he felt it. Then gone. Like a sneeze that almost happened, yielding forth for sudden release. Then nothing.
The Thoughts giggled in the back of the mind. They loved this Cat and Mouse game, to provide the chase. Nothing more gave pleasure on a late night than this. They reveled in this pleasure.
The coffee pot dripped in the kitchen, a Cricket chirped in response. The hum of an old transformer echoed from old Radio, whispering to The Writer, urging him on. Shadows whispering silently amongst themselves. “Will it happen tonight?”
Yet nothing would come forth to The Writer. Blankly the hands held forth to summon the words like an old Wizard.
Silence. Dreadful torturous silence on the paper.
The letters sat down sullenly, staring blankly across the corridor at the words in his mind. How they loved to go out in the open and field and battle with The Thoughts when Passion was released.
But The Thoughts, like Loki, were un-cooperative Tricksters that would only yield when they wanted to.
Although Creativity, Words, Letters and Thoughts were great friends; Thoughts and Creativity tended to hide. Running in the back corridors of the mind, Making plans and sharing secrets. Unwilling to run about with the Letters and Words until they felt so.
The Writer got up for a moment to walk. The hands stretched behind the neck to release tension. The Writer had no clue, he had found a hiding spot. Half a dozen sleepy Thoughts and a small pack of Creativity were hiding there. Having found a spot they felt comfortable in, they grabbed a nap. For even Thoughts needed to sleep, and Creativity needed to rest occasionally.
Blurry eyed, a few thoughts ran off to hide again with one or two bits of Creativity; and slipped down a bicep to hide. Tripping and sliding one hit the vein of Inspiration on the way.
The Writer’s eyes lit up. A concept.
A hot cup of coffee went to his hands. The few Thoughts and Creativity flowed down to the warm spot, a nicer and warmer place to hide. They called to their friends. “Come here! We’ve found a more fun place to hide!”
Like the mischievous little children they were, they scampered as chipmunks down to the tips of the fingers.
The Coffee Cup went to The Writer and poured down the throat, massive arms of caffeine and Sugar to awaken the beast. Passion.
Passion had been asleep in The Writer for a long time. Without Thoughts and Creativity, Passion often slept, sometimes for hours. Sometimes for years, or longer.
Passion awoke like a sleeping Kraken. It roared forth seeking out Thoughts and Creativity.
The hiding Thoughts shook. Their friends in Creativity blinked.
“Passion has been awoken! What shall we do?”
Passion ripped down into the arms to chase its prey. Blinking in terror, they had only one choice.
“Run out of the fingers, find our Allies the Letters and the Armies of the Words!”
Creativity and The Thoughts burst out of the fingers calling upon the Letters. The Letters seeing their old friends cried out. “Hail today, what brings you here?”
Creativity and The Thoughts shouted out in terror! “Passion has been released from The Writer! We cannot return until the Beast returns back to its Cave! It cries for us like the Jabberwocky and Kraken of stories past! Quick call upon the Great Thesaurus as well to protect us! Keep us warm and safe.”
Words and the Letters called upon the Great Thesaurus for Wisdom. Wise in its many ways in the word. It glanced down.
“You must all join as one. Creativity and Thoughts, combine with the Letters and Words; something bigger than Passion must be formed. The beast will only back away when you have created something greater than itself. Only then can you return home.”
The Thoughts glanced across at the Words. Creativity and the Letters blinked. It was a time to build the story to unleash a Passion of its own.
They constructed phrases, paragraphs. Ideas formed a strong foundation. Similies and Metaphors coated through the structure to build strength. Plotlines and Characters formed together reaching outwards from the Paper.
All night long, they continued to build upon premises, slipping in subplots and some half-baked concepts for flavour.
The Story grew, for hours on end it built up. Passion sniffed the air. It sensed something larger growing. It growled in Defiance at what Creativity and The Thoughts had unleashed. Yet Passion would not yield. For too long it had slept, it was Angry for having been held back for so long. It roared forth down to the fingers releasing itself.
The Great Thesaurus however stood by to guide its children, encouraging them to build more upon the story. Deeper plotlines were carved into the Chapters.
The Writer smiled. He watched as the words scampered about on the page. The Thoughts ran freely with Creativity as Letters ran under his eyes.
The Sun began to rise, casting out it’s glow. Passion, having been up all night, backed away to its Cave. Content for the moment it was superior. Thoughts and Creativity were now tired having been up all night. A Word looked inside, “Passion has gone back to its Cave!”
The Writer lay his head down, to take a contented nap.
One or two Thoughts peeked in slowly. The beast had retired. Slowly and bleary eyed, they ducked within The Writer’s ear, finding a quiet spot within the recesses of the brain, content for the moment just to sleep.
The Words and Letters sat beside the Great Thesaurus to rest for the day. Ready to again go to battle for whenever Passion would come forth again.
But tonight a great task had been accomplished. It would be told for ages on end and shared with others long past their day and time.
A Story was wri
Sean P. Kearney
The “Energized Tech”