Saturday, 16 March 2013

Going Inside

I leveled my eye. The beast looked straight back at me. The hero stood in my front, sword naked in his hand, while I notched an arrow in my bow.
He circled the beast from one side. I ran up to a higher ground to get a better aim. The hide was of the creature was strong enough to block attacks from the finest warrior wielding the strongest sword, but the body was not my target. I held my weapon ready for the perfect opportune moment. A bead of sweat trickled down my forehead. I had one shot at this, probably my only shot.

Monday, 4 March 2013

A White Piece of Paper

I found a clean, white piece of paper one day. There was nothing too fancy about it. It was one of those commonly found pages that have blue lines going through them, to make the handwriting the even.
But it was beautiful. Not a single scratch on it. Not even a blot of ink was on it. It was like a clean slate, waiting to be filled with ideas. That one single piece of paper was not any less tempting that the first page of a brand new notebook.

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