Dreaming Hope

The cursor blinked on the screen, seeming to blink away the seconds as she stared at it. The words seemed lost now. It was if the thin blinking line had hypnotized her. Bringing with it a fog in which all inspiration had disappeared. Scooting back from the table, she rubbed at her eyes. Why was it so difficult to find a thread of story? It had been such a long hiatus, but coming back to it now felt like trying to think through cotton balls. She reached for her tea, only to found it had gone cold. Standing, she picked it up and went to make more.

She shook her head and she walked downstairs to the kitchen. This morning had felt so much like when she first started writing, had felt so full of promise. Her dream last night had inspired a new story and the words had filled her like a balloon. But every word disappeared when that cursor started blinking at her. Putting the kettle on the stove she tried to remember what in the dream had inspired her, but only got a headache. With a sigh, she went to the bathroom in search of Tylenol.

The mirror in the bathroom showed all the fatigue from her writing attempt. She hadn't even brushed her hair before sitting down at her work table, and it was as unkempt as it had been when she woke up. The lines on her face seemed deeper, creasing around her eyes and mouth. There were more now than she remembered, but it had been a long time since she worried about her appearance. A tear escaped as she thought about it.

How she had wound her hair in a bun and buttoned up her suit for the final court session that day. The way the sun shone brightly through the high windows. Making all the polished wood glow in the morning light. Avery had looked particularly dashing at the opposite table. His face obscured by his shaggy black hair as he leaned to talk to his lawyer. His suit looked new, paid for by his new lady friend seated behind him. Selene hadn't spared her a glance, it made her too upset to think about.

The whistle of the kettle woke her out of her stupor. Wiping the tears from her face she made her tea. As she watched the leaves steep in the water she allowed the aroma to soothe her. At least she was trying to write again, she thought. It had been a year since she had caught Avery cheating and gotten the divorce. A year away from her workroom in the attic. Sipping the tea carefully she started back up the stairs, new words forming in her mind. It might not be like riding a bicycle, she thought, sitting down to the computer. But it all started with the words. The words were coming clear now. She started typing and didn't look back.

The dawn light woke her. The leaves on the tree outside her window danced in the autumn breeze. It made the light on her ceiling dance in hues of red and gold. She sat up in bed and felt at ease for the first time in months. The dream was fresh in her mind. She could feel the computer keys beneath her fingertips. The rhythmic clicking like a lullaby, once cherished. Her notepad was on her bedside table. Empty sheets waiting for the first wakeful inspiration.

Selene smiled to herself as she flipped it open and began to write down her dream. It was the first time since the divorce she had dreamed of writing and knew it was a sign that she was ready to move on. The words were flowing from her head onto the pages in her lap. She started the mental checklist of things she needed to do today. She would need to clean the attic workroom, she hadn't opened it in at least a year. A shudder passed through her as she considered all the updates her software might need.

Oh, the waiting would be the worst. But for now, the notepad worked fine. She hadn't thought about using her anger toward Avery to try a storyline. But she could use her hope. Her hope in a new future and a new kind of happiness.

Dressing quick, she stumbled to the kitchen to make some tea. While she waited she thought about her dream more. Reconstructing her divorce. Creating a new self in which to make new choices. New choices that would build a story. The kettle whistle broke her train of thought, but only for a moment. The floral scent of the tea brought her back into the kitchen. As she sat down in the breakfast nook she checked her phone. It was only 7 am, but she had missed a call from Maude, her editor.

Damn Maude, she thought, I am 3 hours behind you. Let me wake up. Maude was good enough to leave a voicemail, she listened to it on speaker while sipping on her tea.

"Selene. Hello? Are you still asleep? It is only like, 5 am. Ugh. Alright dear, call me when you wake up okay? We need to talk about this break of yours." Selene smiled at the crackling voice on her phone. Maude always talked to fast. Her southern accent was always so out of place in the Chicago office she called home. She breathed in the vapors of her tea, wondering what Maude would think of her writing again.

Maude would tell me to get it cooking, she thought with a chuckle. She would be pleased to know I finally had an idea worth writing about. Maude answered to her own bosses though. Likely they were not too happy to have an author take an unscheduled hiatus for a year. It's not like she had given any notice about what was happening. She had gone from constant contact, always with an idea on the burner. Writing every idea she could, good or bad. It didn't matter, all the mattered was that the words got out.

After she finished her tea she went upstairs to the attic. The room was stale, light dust was on everything. Selene opened the window, letting the morning breeze in. She turned toward her computer, it sat on the table staring at her. She smiled to herself, it was going to be a good day. And she was writing again.