Today, I sat down at my desk and decided to write a bestseller.
Wouldn't it be awesome!
If I could just pen words that everyone suddenly wanted to read.
Maybe I can. Why not?
I am sure if you are reading this, you want to write one as well, but then we would be in competition and I might not be the author of the bestseller any more.
So, my words need to be more interesting than yours. What is interesting to most people?
Can I create a story that millions of people would stop what they are doing and read? How would they even know that I wrote the story?
I understand that as a society we go through history together and there are hot topics we like to think about, but which one is interesting enough to write a story about?
Is it the effort to get to Mars?
How about the crazy robots?
Maybe the controversial first female president?
Or do I stick with the normal placers like romance, sex and tragic relations?
I have a lot of questions that are bouncing around in my head but maybe I should just find a spot under a tree somewhere where I can smell the blossoms and feel the warm air on my skin and get started.
Heck, it's worth a shot, right?
"I first heard the dog barking. He only barked when someone was coming into his yard. I looked out the window and saw the brown delivery truck bouncing over the frozen ruts of ice at the end of our driveway and watched as he slowed but didn’t stop. A large box dropped out from the open passenger side of the truck and rolled once before stopping front of our mailbox.
Intrigued, I wondered why in this wet weather the driver would leave a box outside on the ground. Snow was melting everywhere and I could hear the constant dripping from the gutters. The sun was warm and I was tired of sitting at my desk writing so I got up and put on my snow boots to check it out. I grabbed the trash bag to take down to the bins near our mailbox, making my trip doubly worthwhile. I had to watch my step as the melting snow hid massive puddles of water and I didn’t feel like getting my socks wet.
The trash bins were mostly empty so I dropped our white plastic bag with its bright orange tie into the nearest one. The mailbox was just around a snowbank and I trudged around instead of attempting to go over the mess.
The box was torn on one corner and looked like someone had used it in a soccer match, except that it was huge. The length must have been close to six feet and when I bent over to lift it, I realized that there was no way I could bring the battered box back to the house on my own. I checked for a label and found my name printed on the white square but the sender’s name was smeared over by some sort of black substance.
Without thinking too much, I decided to open the box where it lay on the ground. I pulled at a corner and released a thick staple. I could see some plastic inside but it wasn’t until I pulled out another staple that I suddenly realized what I was looking at and almost touching. I stood back in shock…"