Just Like The Clouds

Prestigious Writers' Club

We both lay in silence; her, counting her beads, me, contemplating if I should get up and type that half-written piece lying in my notebook.

“Let’s go see if Areeb and Abyan want to go to the roof,” she says suddenly. I look at her and get up immediately.

We climb the stairs to the roof. Areeb climbs in front of me. Abyan is in Ammu’s arms. When we get there I look at the sky, because there isn’t much else to look at. It is then that I realize, I’ve never seen anything like this.

Okay, I have. But I don’t remember it.

I stare in silence. In awe. The west skyline is yellowish. Above it is a dark grey. Above the grey, very slight streaks of blue. That might as well be a trick of my eyes. I’ll never know. But I pay more attention to the grey…

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Author: anankhan98

When I close my eyes, I see myself as a writer. I see a pale blank page in front of me and feel a solid pen in my hand. I feel inspiration flowing through me, hear the words being whispered in my ears, ready to be written. And I see myself writing them. So, I write. And that is why I am here right now. To let the world know that I want to become better at this. That there is this unbelievably naive living in this corner of the world, who wants to have people help her become the best she can become. My focus is actually on fiction. I dream up stories in my sleep, literally. And I can't help but want to write them. Knowing English only as a second language is a drawback, though. I still try.

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