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Fantasy

The walls of the cabin are peach colored. Caramel streaks line the wall, branches of a painted tree light and faded. A marble plastered table top is in the middle and behind it is a cosy desk chair. There is a dullness in the cabin as the lights as of now are switched off. 


The sliding door to the cabin slides open smoothly and the tree lights into a matchstick sheen. A formally dressed man in admiral blue coat under which a white shirt gapes from the gap and blue pants. He has a short boxed beard and charming, honey tinted eyes. He closes the door behind and sits into his seat. He eyed a sole click pen standing in a pen stand on the table and grips it. His thumb clicks the pen and a smile buds over his lips. He looks back at the shiny tree and smiles knowingly. And then he closes his eyes. He waves the pen and the glow of lights increases with the waving. The lights bloom into porcelain flowers. And then with a click of his pen, the flowers plucked and fluttered into burning pearls. The pearls swell with every passing second and with a final click, they were medallion embers. 


The man opens his eyes which are burning yellow. He clicks his pen and the first ember flutters closer. A magical voice utters:


 "Welcome to the office, Chief! Your schedule for your extraordinary day: 


Without any reminder, you have your half finished novel to complete. 


You have recently had a brilliant idea for the plot of another meritorious short story so you have to write that. You haven't been able to write any poetry lately even when you have ideas, so we have to see if we can do something for that. Also, articles, tweets and your opinions have to be penned down to be posted online and published in newspapers and magazines. Also…" 


"Let that be it sweetheart! I cannot do that kind of magic!" 


The Chief's face glows as he hears this magical and childish singsong voice.


The Chief projects the pen in the air. Instead of being impartial, gravity liberated. The pen floated in midair. The chief snapped his finger and a fresh notepad jumped to life and fluttered upwards. The pen glided closer to the notepad. 


The chief waved and the chair rolled ahead and the chief sat down and stretched his legs ahead. The pen had already begun to brink out silver ink onto the notepad. He closed his eyes pondering and thinking. The pen wrote his thoughts down in a refined manner. He imagined and painted characters and places on the canvas of mind and the pen jotted written imagery on paper. 


The pen stopped for a moment. The chief was thinking yet he could not find the appropriate word for his thought, and he wasn't really sure which synonym was most accurate. Another of the burning embers fluttered to life and mumbled, "angelic…saintly…holy…sacred…godly... beatific.." 


"Beatific! That sounds just 'write'!" 


The writing continued as the author (technically thinker here?) or as the glowing orbs called him: Chief sat with eyes shut and lips whispering to himself. After an hour of scribbles and fibs, the story had been written. It was time for a well-earned break. 


"Your fan mail arrived early in the morning, Chief! You want us to read them out for you?" shouted another orb. 


"For sure!" 


"Dear Cursive Chief! I am a huge fan of your books and stories. I am also quite fond of your poetry. They always inspire me to write. I own all editions of every book you ever wrote, even the unsuccessful and unpopular ones. I would love to meet you someday and get a signed copy…" 


The Chief smiled, sitting in his seat. 


"Write back to her…"


The pen jerked in fury and began to write down words which poured straight from the Cursive Chief's heart. 


And then another orb fluttered together and almost shouted, "Someone is coming!" 


The Chief snapped his fingers and the embers started fading, their sheen falling murky. The embers wilt into the flowers and are adsorbed into the walls and fade into the branches. The flying notepad falls as if gravity had returned from a short vacation. The pen dangled and settled into the coat pocket of the chief. The cabin door slid open. It was a little girl wearing a strawberry shade dress runs into with childish excitement. She is licking a lollipop and she runs to the chief. The chief's face bloomed at the sight of his daughter. He raised her up high and a few minutes later she sat in his lap. 


"How was school?" The chief asked nudging her playfully. 


The girl stopped licking her lollipop and began in a singsong voice,"Great! We got back our answer sheets for last week's test and I was second in maths and first in everything else." 


"You know what that means?" he deliberately deepens his voice. The girl gulps in surprise for a second and then asks, "What?" 


"It means that I will have to buy you more of these lollipops!" 


They giggle together after which the girl says, "No, I don't want more of these. Mom told me that my teeth will spoil if I eat more of lollipops and chocolates." 


"No they don't! You just have to brush properly, sweetheart. And your teeth will become boring if they don't get all that sweetness. You have to keep them happy!" 


The girl laughs and savours her lollipop. 


"I don't wish to work at all without your voice! I cannot work without hearing your lovely chatter" 


"So how do you work in morning?" 


The Chief smiles as he looks at the painted tree. After a moment he says, "That tree is beautiful, isn't it?" 


"Yes it is! Why do you ask this everyday?" 


"I will tell it to you some other day when you are a but older. It will be to much to tell you as of now!" 


The girl sat in his lap and gaped into hee father's warm eyes. After a moment of confusion, she let go and focused on her lollipop. 


"Now go! Your mother would be waiting in the car. I will meet you in the evening and I will take you for a walk and buy you chocolate!" 


The girl smiled, sang a bye to his father and left, jumping and hopping and humming. The Chief took out his pen from his pocket and opened the drawer. He took out a diary, light bronze in color and rough. He places it on the table and flips the pages and starts to write in regular ink.


"Nothing much happened today. It was a usual yet joyful day. I woke up to the chirping of our canary. Aurora was sound asleep when I went to wake her up for school. I felt bad waking her up as she looked like an angel in her sleep. But of course I had to wake her. She still struggles with her shoe laces, I had to tie them properly for her. But I am happy that she is improving. I dropped her to school and then went to the library for a while. After a few hours of leisurely reading, I came to my office. My wishing tree has enabled me to make significant progress regarding the novel. Aurora is a delight to have around, her innocent voice charges me up with positive energy. I am tired of thinking now so I guess I will leave and spend some time with Aurora and of course my dear wife. I will stop by night one more time and we will see if we can write some more." 


He throws the pen in air and one ember flutters out. He waves his hands and smiles and the ember sings, "As you say Chief! Today's progress will be typed before you come!" 


The Chief looks st the diary and the wishing tree one more time as he opens the sliding door with a swishing finger. He looked at his diary and he noticed something adorable: 


  'Even if he could write his diary with magic he didn't'







March 13, 2020 05:32

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