“Should I kill him?”
He’s been living a pretty good life.
Perfect family, perfect wife, popular during his childhood.
It seems too plain.
There needs to be a climax.
The birds are out flying
“Wait what? That doesn’t even fit the mood.”
She’s been looking through her window for the past two hours
Thinking, Scratching, Scribbling, Plucking hairs.
What’s going on?
Could this be what they told her about?
What she read about?
She looks at the empty page right in front of her.
Another idea drops.
“Oh yes, What if I write..”
He died of…
“No… that’s too straight-forward”
Tear, Crumple, Dispose
“This is not working. It has to be a masterpiece.”
Her dustbin fills up gradually with crumpled paper,
And there’s nothing to show for the time spent.
As her room transforms into an idea graveyard,
She realizes, what she feared has finally happened.
“It’s time to take a break.”
She closes the notepad, locks the study, and retreats.