Where should I head? I question that pops up in my head every now and then. After reading the prompt, I set the timer for ten minutes, thinking that I would create something magical in these minutes. I would take you to a far off land, take you to a land known as nowhere. But suddenly the question stares at me asking, ‘Where are you heading my boy?’
I stare back and tell it to come in a while, maybe after five minutes. Wait, I have got just five minutes left, the ticktock clock never stops. Ten minutes mean jumbled thoughts race to mark their existence on the paper. Some effectively land and some just vanish in thin air.
With just two minutes left on the clock, I am running out of words. They have dried up like an old well in my famine stricken village. Anyway, I must hit the publish button and invite the dear question back for tea.