Tell A Tale in 500 Words

Too Few to Mention By Claire Wilson

For years I have been scared. Instead of striving for what I want, I’ve been content to sit back and hide in the gloom. Well, not content, but you know what I mean.

It’s easy to assume that you’ll fail in life so it’s much easier sit back and do nothing. That’s the one thing I don’t want to prove that I’m right about when I’m lying in my death bed. Although, now that I’m 32, I’m overwhelmed with regret. Why have I stayed in the job that I hate for so long?

It’s only now that I’ve realised I have been in the job I hate for 16 whole years – the job I started when I was 16. No chance of promotion. No prospects. It’s no wonder that I hate it.

What I have always wanted to do is to write. Whether it’s an article, a joke or even a book – I want to earn my living being creative and playing with words.

It’s just a shame that I have responsibility in the form of an eleven year old son. I can’t just give up my reliable income to chase a dream I should have had the guts to chase before he was born. Still…

I’m drawn to fresh notebooks in the supermarket when I buy my groceries. I buy myself a cheap laptop on Black Friday and let out a squeal of excitement when it’s delivered a few days later.

I stare at the white blank screen for 30 minutes before I switch the machine off in disgust. The temporary excitement I felt when tearing open the box is now gone.

That night, I wake from a dream. But instead of visiting the bathroom, the cause of what has woken me, I scramble around for that notebook I bought from the supermarket and never looked at again.

My dream has sparked an idea.

It’s just after 4 am as I lie in bed, creating character names and setting the outline of a story; the length of which is currently unknown.

I glare at my alarm clock in annoyance when it emits that cheerful bleep a few hours later. It’s time to get ready for work. As I’m about to leave the house, I slip the notebook into my handbag.

Later, I forget to eat the sandwich I prepared for lunch as I pour over my notes. I don’t even feel hungry.

That night, I look forward to switching off the TV and surrounding myself in my own literature when my child goes to bed. For the first time in a long time, I feel positive about my future.

I am finally making change happen.


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