Me, You, US

A sigh. A laugh. A wink. A kiss. Your smile.

Merely software...

I close my eyes and gently put the tip of my pencil on a sheet of heavily grained paper visioning whatever I need to express.

It is truly odd how at the most peculiar moments the most wonderfull events occur. 

What we say and why we laugh has no particular meaning, yet it anoints my soul...

The Earth has been burning.

For a long time now.

But now she rises from it's ashes and the slow and ancient proces of healing has started. Yet it will always remain a pale impression of it's former glory.

That total and destructive war that lasted for nearly a century and ended two years ago is slowly being repressed from human memory. They are laughing and living like nothing ever happened while they all enjoy the fruit of our labour.

So now my world is burning...

My name is Stephen, and I have a secret... And I will take it with me. They don't diserve to know. They lost that right the moment they decided to abuse our legacy, when they forgot why we had given them our knowledge and technology. 

It's hard writing a good opening, a good beginning for a new book. 

I tried to rely on my skills and the clear image of what I wanted to tell everybody, but found myself scratching and editing over and over again. 

How is that possible? Have the muzes abandonned me? I wish not to believe so as the rest of the novel stil writes itself. 

Should I suckerpunch my readers from the start or ease them a way into the story? A dilemma strikes me.

On occasions like this I am forced to remember what a famuous writer once said:

"Don't stare at the problem, but think and see the solution."