Blank Pages.

"Why haven't you written something yet? The deadline is hanging over our head like an executioner's blade. Do you suppose to get this work done during the vacations of your very possible unemployment after getting fired?"

Marco spoke in a hasty frustrated voice thinned than usual showcasing a sense of stress.

"It's not like I am not trying to write but you know it doesn't work this way, I am not getting much of ideas to begin with."

Jessica replied, holding her head between her palms, as the fingers stretched open the tense lines made carved on her forehead.

"I understand that, but you too realize tomorrow is the last day to submit the draft, don't you? The client wants the manuscripts by tomorrow, failing to present anything may give a bad first impression and may even cost you this really important gig you've got after so much of your own hard work."

"I know, but.... well, I suppose I need to refresh my mind a bit."

"Hmm.. fine then, how about you go for a walk? It may work."

Marco replied to her in an comfortingly affirming tone.

____________________________________________________

She came to a nearby park for a small walk, the one she used to come with her dad as a kid, her dad, a retired writer, wanted her to be a writer as well, and so, she is trying hard to be one despite having a decent paying corporate job.

"Somethings aren't necessary but still important Jess, you can survive without them, pretty well, but you just can't live without them.

You quoted that well dad, I realize that each day struggling despite having everything to make myself happy, I am not dependent on this, but yet, somehow it is just what I need to do."

She speaks to herself as she reminisce about her dad while brimming with self doubt regarding whether she ever will be able to stand up to his expectations or not.

"Maybe I am not just good enough dad? Mom says I should stop bothering myself and her, 'cause she stresses a lot, well, you know she always did. But I can't stop chasing this one dream, should I?"

"I don't think you should."

A foreign voice interrupted her as she was submerged under the flowless thoughts of hers, startled at the presence of someone, as if a deer just saw a gator while slurping down water from the lake, she said,

"What- Who are you?"

"The name is Gerald, and sorry for startling you, but honestly if you keep mumbling to yourself in a park bench alone, the couple next to you, the kids at the center and those men all are gonna stare and find you a bit odd, if not a complete lunatic."

He gave a witty reply ending with a chuckle.

"Ah, yeah, right. Umm so, Gerald, how long have you been listening?"

"I wasn't exactly listening, but if we're talking about you being audible to a person behind you, then that's happening since you said that quote by Ethen Harris. But honestly I still wanna confirm, he really is your father?"

"Yeah, he is."

"Diffiult ain't it? Being born under the shadow of a fabled personality, the shadow that first gives you a gentle shelter from scorching world, but also becomes a place of darkness, out of comparison, forcing you to escape it by burning yourself and be a star, or become just another silhouette."

"My, my, sure you aren't a novelist yourself? Well, not really, dad wanted me to become what I wanted to be, but I showed interest in writing too, so he just made my dream, his own. I still want to do this for myself as well, just that, I want to do it for him, more than me."

"Hmm, desire to prove yourself huh? I get it, my dad was supportive of my dream too, yeah, you guessed somewhat close, not exactly a novelist, but a content writer, though I am working on my own big personal project it's gonna be a novel, a sci-fi thriller to be precise."

"That sounds great, where did you start writing from? Who was your inspiration?"

"The same as yours. I was a software engineer before this, was leading a good enough life, but there was always a sense of pleasure missing from my life, no matter what I achieved.

I find that pleasure in writing, when I told it, I was honestly anticipating a hurricane of harsh words marching at me, but all he asked was, "You sure wanna do this? And will not quit in the mid?"

I affirmed and he was ready to support me, turns out he wanted to be a violinist once, until my grandpa forced him into engineering. He just didn't want to inherit the will of generational coercing into conventional careers."

"Honestly, it feels so heartwarmingly glad to listen, that's a dad you must be proud of ain't ya?"

"He's the one I am most proud of....

By the way, you were talking about stopping yourself from chasing this dream, is it because of the self doubt?"

Jessica's eyes looked away for a moment as she gulped a bit of her own saliva in nervousness to gather the strength to respond, and nodded, so comforting her, with a smile that spoke of serenity, Gerald said,

"You know, you don't need to be as good as your dad to begin, not perfect either, your dad didn't start when he was perfect, did he? We get perfect when we start, we don't start at perfection."

"We don't start at perfection..." the phrase, and the quote, struck the chords of the girl's mind, playing a melody from the autumns of childhood, as she was about to write her first essay, given as an assignment.

"But dad it is flawed." little Jess cried.

"It is flawed, and that makes it human, we don't start at perfections Jess, we get perfect because we started." His dad said, before wiping of her tears, and giving her a gentle pat at the head.

"It was this all along, thanks dad." She whispered to herself.

"Madam, it isn't illegal to be human audible." He said in a tone of sarcasm that layered over his curiosity to know what she uttered, as she chuckled to his remark and said,

"Nothing, thanks Gerald. You know you're funny."

"Well I can trust a beautiful lady I suppose, I mean even if I can't I would want to."

"You trying to flirt?"

"I am not trying, I am flirting madam."

"Isn't it too quick considering we just met?" She asks in a manner of teasing.

"Hmm, well then how about you meet me tomorrow right here to flirt?"

And the chat lasted for an hour with both of them giggling, and flirting, but the best part about the eve, apart from them bumping into each other of course, was the idea that brought smile to the face of hers, the idea that was in the manuscripts the next day...

"She was scared of the blank pages that were stained of self doubt haunting her, just when she went for a walk and met him..."