The Writer

She had strayed from the beaten path, wandering in the dark woods. It was a scene that mirrored her underlying confusion. Around the bend, an old typewriter hovered above a large rock, beckoning the girl to share her heart. She approached cautiously. Tucking under her long white dress, she sat in the moonlight, allowing the tap-tap of a few keys to echo into the night...

Nothing happened.

She tapped a few more, and a few more, gradually disappearing into a space all her own. Her words became less guarded as her passion augmented, and the surrender of her honesty refreshed the soul.

Suddenly, a small puff emanated from the machine and grew larger, manifesting the detoxifying effect of her truth. She smiled, watching the smoke dance higher and higher, carrying her story to the Universe.