Time's up (based on a true story)
There’s only two minutes left and he has nothing to show for it.
He was an outcast. A misfit.
The author stared at the words. It was a good start. But where does it go from there?
He looked at the clock. 52 more minutes. Plenty of time. Keep typing.
His whole life he had …
No. Too cliché. He sunk his face into his hands.
He looked up. Another idea came to his mind. He quickly opened a new document and began to type.
I WAS 10 YEARS OLD WHEN THE SECRET GOVERNMENT AGENCY FOUND ME.
Yes. Love this idea!
Wait. What was he doing? He needed to finish the story about the outcast.
His whole life he had lived in the woods, hidden away from society.
Ugh. That’s terrible. He sighed.
Ok. He had 45 minutes left. He could still be productive today. Just keep typing.
He opened the other document again.
THE WOMAN FROM THE GOVERNMENT SAID I WAS SPECIAL. I HAD A GIFT. AND MY COUNTRY NEEDED ME.
Ooh, that’s interesting. But, he was getting distracted again. He wanted to finish the outcast story.
He was 21 years old before he had ever seen another person.
AT TEN YEARS OLD, THE IDEA OF SECRET GOVERNMENT SPY MISSIONS FASCINATED ME. BUT MY PARENTS SAID NOT TO TALK TO STRANGERS. AND I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW THIS WOMAN'S NAME.
Stop! Stay focused. Back to the outcast story. The clock ticked on.
He’ll never forget the day. He was out for a walk in the woods near his home.
SHE WENT BY THE MYSTERIOUS NAME OF “LADY NASTA”.
He pushed the keyboard away and stood with a groan. Yes, it’s a compelling story. But he'd have to work on it later. He set a goal to finish the outcast story.
He still had 32 minutes. If he could just stay focused he could still hit his daily word count.
As he walked through the woods, he saw an unusual looking man. Small, hairless. He held what looked like a camera. What he was doing there he had no idea.
Ok, good. Now he was getting somewhere. And he still had 25 minutes of writing time.
He continued walking through the woods, looking casually over his shoulder at the man with the camera. It didn’t even occur to him to wave.
"Lady Nasta" is such a cool name …
SHE SAID SHE WAS TASKED WITH PUTTING A SPECIAL TEAM OF KIDS TOGETHER - KIDS LIKE ME, WITH SPECIAL ABILITIES. AND SHE WANTED ME TO LEAD THEM. IN FACT, SHE WANTED ME TO RECRUIT THE OTHER MEMBERS BECAUSE, AS SHE DESCRIBED IT, EVEN THOUGH I WAS ONLY 10 YEARS OLD, MY SPECIAL ABILITY WAS LEADERSHIP.
There he went again with the Lady Nasta story. He wasn't making any progress on the outcast story. And now only 12 minutes remained. Determined, he turned back to the outcast story.
That was the first, and last, time he’d seen another person. At least for a long time.
He pushed his feet against the desk and rolled himself into the middle of the room. He didn't like it. There’s got to be a better way to tell this story.
LADY NASTA GAVE ME THE NAMES OF OTHER KIDS WITH SPECIAL ABILITIES AND ASKED ME IF I WOULD RECRUIT THEM TO THE TEAM.
What was he doing? He was supposed to be working on the outcast story.
He paced the room and kicked his desk. Loose pages from both the outcast story and the Lady Nasta story fell to the floor at his feet.
But he paid them no notice. His eyes stayed fixed on the clock.
There were only two minutes left and he had nothing to show for it.
Time‘s up.
My ears are ringing
Wild back and forth my friend pretty good story that I resonate with far to well