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September 19, 2013

Daffodils and dreams

This week’s word in the spotlight is rainbow. What a beautiful thing to write about but we have to use the third definition which is an illusory goal or dream. Much like the one I have about winning a Trifecta challenge.

1:  an arc or circle that exhibits in concentric bands the colors of the spectrum and that is formed opposite the sun by the refraction and reflection of the sun's rays in raindrops, spray, or mist
2a :  a multicolored array
b :  a wide assortment or range rainbow of flavors>

There were days when she woke up and fear gripped her. But she dragged herself up and pushed on to the day care center. There were cranky colicky babies and tantrum throwing toddlers. Unlimited chaos. Havoc spewing monsters. She needed the money. She had come into the city with hopes of being a scriptwriter. She had huge volumes of her marvelous stories. Rejection after rejection piled up and started blocking her source of creativity. She began to feel numb and words stopped tumbling out of her soul.
Today was no different. Like a moving mannequin she walked towards Daffodils filled with cute looking imps. The huge yellow plastic blossoms seemed to mock her. We are more Daffodils than you are a writer. She turned her head away.
She always wanted to write a movie script. There was no doubt in her heart until now. Maybe I should go back to college and get some professional degree, she realized with a shudder. She shook it off and tried to breathe in some fresh morning air. Someone had puked in the front yard, she gasped. Placing her hand over her mouth to prevent herself from the same fate she ran inside.
 Hot tears stung her eyes. She started quivering with uncontrollable sobs. Everything she was so sure of started crumbling around her in that minute. I am not a writer. What would life be without passion, she agonized. Doing some job just to survive, to pay bills. All what she fought for was coming to naught. Fiery speeches she made about living true to your calling rose up like ghosts with a vengeance and tangoed around her.
Suddenly her phone jingled. Although she wanted to dash it on the wall with hideously painted daffodils, she answered it.
 “Miss. Thomas, I am calling from the YRH studios. We would like a meeting with you regarding a script you have presented.”
She was no longer chasing the rainbow.


  1. Every writer's dream! I really liked this story.


  2. If it weren't for the "Miss", I would have assumed it was my call :)

    1. Oh yeah...u can forget the Miss part. it is for get up and write something...u know I was Miss.Thomas before I became Mrs.Mathew.

  3. I feel like this when babysitting. And when I'm at work too. "This time could be better spent writing!" sob
    Great work!

    1. Thanks Draug. You already produced such beautiful volumes of writing.

  4. Persistence, along with some puke in the garden, pays off. :-) Thanks for linking up. I love the hope here.

  5. " Havoc spewing monsters." And,"Rejection after rejection piled up and started blocking her source of creativity. She began to feel numb and words stopped tumbling out of her soul." What a wonderful style you have and the way you have aptly expressed the agony of a creative person ,stifled by "living" a mundane life,is amazing Sini!Loved the piece:-)

  6. Oh, this call came in a nick of time. Working at a day care would be a living nightmare for me. The noise, the chaos, the dirty diapers...oh, no way!

    1. It would be hell for me too. My two boys are golden but can't say I enjoy a swarm of teenies.


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