Drawn (Weekend Freewrite)

Weekend Freewrite

The weekend freewrite includes three prompts which one must work around: the first sentence, the interference and the dramatic twist. This is my first #weekendfreewrite in a couple of months, and I do feel a little rusty; I had forgotten how challenging the twists can be. Hopefully, you enjoy what I came up with.

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Drawn

She felt compelled to pick up the pencil. When she did, it started to control her hand. Was it the pencil or was it something innate? It did not matter. Her hands, or the pencil, started drawing on paper. The graphite started to take interesting shapes, forming a landscape she had never seen before with her eyes.

As soon as the pencil was satisfied with an image, it sought another page and started afresh. The pictures seemed to line up together, as if they were meant to be drawn on a wall or gigantic canvas. She drew and drew, without knowing what the drawings meant. It looked as if the place was of another world or moon. There was ground, there was sky, and there were living things in between.

She assumed they were living creatures, because some had odd limbs and faces. It would be strange if these creatures were simply statues or some sort of non-living thing. Even though she came to that conclusion, she could not think of what these creatures could be. Or where do they live. Or if they actually exist. And why is she drawing them in the first place? She was filled with more questions than her room was filled with these pencil drawings.

"Did you hear that Mike called the company president an asshole?", he said. She was still thinking about the drawings from the day before. Yes, she had promised that she would not keep secrets from her husband, Gerald, but she knew well that he would label her a freak, or just not believe her. Her wish to solve this mystery superceeded her other wish of being locked in a mental asylum like her grandmother.

Gerald stared at her, without a reply. He then repeated, "I said, Mike has called the company president an asshole. That Mike is becoming a lot of trouble these days". She nodded. "There is not much you can do. You have helped him get this job, try to turn his life around, but if he doesn't want to, it's his choice. At the end of the day, you cannot save those who don't want to be saved". Gerald already knew that, but Mike was his little brother. It didn't feel right to abandon him, no matter how hard-headed Mike behaves.

"Well, if he wants to keep the job, not only does he need a change of an attitude, but he also needs to come up with a brilliant idea soon. We need a new concept and he has not delivered anything promising yet".

The next morning, Joanne told mike that some maintenance is required, clearly, with a plan brewing in her head. He came over as he was great with fixing or improving computers. Gerald could do some stuff too, but he was not as efficient and talented as Mike when it came to these things.

While Mike was working on her computer, which seemed to be functioning fine, Joanne mentioned the world design for the game that he should be pitching. He still had no clue. Promising he would keep a secret, she showed him the drawings she had impulsively created, not revealing the secret of the impulse itself. Mike had several questions, most of which Joanne could not answer. Yet, he was on board with taking those drawings and designing a world from those ideas, as it would save him much time, and possibly, keep him his job.

They discussed together what the function of the creatures body was. He was surprised with Joanne's constant interest in the intellectual and psychic abilities of these creatures, that in his eyes seemed rather dumb. Obviously, he discarded those ideas, especially since they did not fit the discussion with his company. Nonetheless, he was grateful for the foundation of the world design.

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_{Writing by Jeremy Mifsud
Prompt from Weekend Freewrite - 6/23/2018 - Part 1 - The First Sentence
Photo by Maria Fernanda Gonzalez on Unsplash}