There were times when I wrote well... These days I rarely do so and feel both guilty and angry about it.

Back then when I was creative I took intensive writer's bootcamp for few weeks, where we were given assignments every day. Today, with the hope to get back the inspiration I opened the folder with the daily stories I wrote back then. 

Those were never published because I thought they were not good enough. Today I read them through and realized that they were not that bad either. In the below story we had to come up with something about

                                   9/11...

It feels like they will be safer in here on the blockchain, so will post few in here for you... and as proof that there were times when I wrote quite well...

                                                                  9/11

 Usually I am very responsible person. Someone, who does not stay out too late, does not drink too much and does not have one-night stands. Someone, who is never late for work too.
 

Usually… but not today… 

The minute I opened my eyes I realized that I was not home. My head ached and I had no idea what had happened last night until I saw him lying next to me… naked. I had to give myself a credit; even while drunk I had a good taste.  

My memory brought snippets of different scenes from the last night… the nightclub, us dancing, the taxi… and our activities at the final destination, where I was at now. 

That was so unlike me. It’s not like I’ve never done this before, but not in the previous 10 years and not in the middle of the week… 

O shit! We have management meeting this morning, where I am presenting a project.  

I rushed to the bathroom and moaned when I saw my face in the mirror. The hangover did not help either.
After ten minutes I was running down the street in my uncomfortable high heels and short evening dress. No wander people were staring at me, because later looked out of place at this hour.  

Of course I was going to be late, because I had to change my clothes. The only good thing was that the guy lived in the neighborhood. 

I took my phone from the purse and called the office. 

“Hey Sandra. Please tell everyone I will be 10 minutes late. My bathroom is flooded and the plumber had just finished fixing the thing. I am on my way!” 

I left my evening dress and shoes lying on the bedroom carpet and I was finally on my way for real.  
 

Finally, I could see our office building. I was only one block away from it. Almost there…
 

My phone rang from inside my bag. I opened it and tried to find it among everything else that I had there.  
 

“Hello”
 

I looked up and saw a pillar of smoke instead the building. I stood there in shock with the mobile on my ear and tears in my eyes.  

And I could barely hear the voice of the stranger that saved my life…