Dec 5, 2020 16:53:39 GMT -6
❊ DELVE INTO IMAGINATION ❊
There were rare instances where Hao Zhao narrowly managed to pull himself away from his work. Extreme writer's block irritated his mind, gripping it with sharpened talons and refusing to release! The single action breaking him down and leaving his time spent making points in a notebook or typing words at a computer impossible. The revelation of requiring a mental break arrived after hours of useless staring at a blinking cursor. The curse of every starting sentence leaving dissatisfaction only adding as supporting arguments to the belief.
It led to the abandonment of forceful tactics as Hao retreated from his computer. The soft escape of a sigh breezed through his lips as he stood from the chair. A grunt grumbled from the writer's throat as his arms headed to the skies, hands clasping together as he straightened his arms and arched his back. Stiffen muscles rolled and moved, stiffness being banished from their frames as he stood. A soft sigh glided through Hao's lips as he blinked away blurs from endless staring at the computer screen for countless hours.
Gradually, he moved around his home, allowing his legs freedom from their stiffness. A gentle 'mmm' rose from his lips as the writer contemplated. Earlier, he ate his lunch and supper was hours from arriving, leaving time for an activity to ease his mind. Thoughts churned for meagre moments before the author landed on the wished-upon activity, reading. Checking out a library book was something accomplished regularly by the writer. The action lent the opportunity to study varying writing styles and lent the opportunity to settle into a chair for endless hours.
The man strode to the coat hanger, plucking a dark-gray jacket from the hanger. He wrapped it around him, clasping the zipper and bringing it up. The bulked pockets held a pair of black gloves, which were grabbed and tugged on accordingly. Once snugged, Hao pushed open the front door of his home and walked to his small car. In silence he entered and seated himself, moving the shift and entering drive. Silently, he drove through Lorsette, taking a break from the endless yammering of radio stations speaking about the recent Assembly attacks; sometimes, people needed silence.
In moments, Hao discovered himself at the Lorsette Public Library. A beautiful building he admired despite it being nothing compared to some of the immaculate libraries he viewed on his travels. He unbuckled and left his vehicle, closing the door behind him. Long strides were taken as he approached the steps, smoothly walking up the stairs and into the front door. Contemplation returned as the writer debated his wishes on what exactly to read for his evening of relaxation. Slowly, he passed by the reception, aimlessly heading into the seemingly endless shelves.
Through the lenses of his glasses, Hao's chestnut eyes peered around at the spines of books. Titles written in varying fonts displayed themselves, eye-catching titles designed to generate interest. A gentle 'hmm' escaped his closed lips as he debated his wishes. Each aimless step brought him closer to the end of a small hallway, eyes curiously searching. The chestnut-hues noticed someone reading at one of the provided tables. Initially, the writer's eyes passed over the book, thinking not a penny until he realized the familiarity of the cover.
When his eyes returned, he recognized the familiar title written in blue font and a familiar name. Yanis Marigold, a woman renowned for her artistry and skills in charm making. The published story-styled autobiography of her life, A Life Painted in Charm, was an obscure book. Perhaps available in the library, but rarely checked out if Hao would assume. Astonishment flickered in his chestnut eyes as an unexpected smile touched his face. Moments, where he discovered people with a taste for the obscure, were almost nonexistent!
Slowly, he approached, wishing to speak to the gentleman holding the book.
"I didn't know there were other people who read about the life of Yanis Marigold... I think you are the first person I have ever seen reading that book," Hao quietly commented.
While he dived into the book near the beginning of the month, Hao's reading pace proved slow. Busied with work, Hao was approximately three quarters into the wonderful book about a woman equally as wonderful. The surprise in his eyes were evident in small ways. The soft glint in his eyes and the gentle curvature of his lips displayed a calm, yet, astonished expression. For once, the writer found himself wishing to become familiar with someone.
It led to the abandonment of forceful tactics as Hao retreated from his computer. The soft escape of a sigh breezed through his lips as he stood from the chair. A grunt grumbled from the writer's throat as his arms headed to the skies, hands clasping together as he straightened his arms and arched his back. Stiffen muscles rolled and moved, stiffness being banished from their frames as he stood. A soft sigh glided through Hao's lips as he blinked away blurs from endless staring at the computer screen for countless hours.
Gradually, he moved around his home, allowing his legs freedom from their stiffness. A gentle 'mmm' rose from his lips as the writer contemplated. Earlier, he ate his lunch and supper was hours from arriving, leaving time for an activity to ease his mind. Thoughts churned for meagre moments before the author landed on the wished-upon activity, reading. Checking out a library book was something accomplished regularly by the writer. The action lent the opportunity to study varying writing styles and lent the opportunity to settle into a chair for endless hours.
The man strode to the coat hanger, plucking a dark-gray jacket from the hanger. He wrapped it around him, clasping the zipper and bringing it up. The bulked pockets held a pair of black gloves, which were grabbed and tugged on accordingly. Once snugged, Hao pushed open the front door of his home and walked to his small car. In silence he entered and seated himself, moving the shift and entering drive. Silently, he drove through Lorsette, taking a break from the endless yammering of radio stations speaking about the recent Assembly attacks; sometimes, people needed silence.
In moments, Hao discovered himself at the Lorsette Public Library. A beautiful building he admired despite it being nothing compared to some of the immaculate libraries he viewed on his travels. He unbuckled and left his vehicle, closing the door behind him. Long strides were taken as he approached the steps, smoothly walking up the stairs and into the front door. Contemplation returned as the writer debated his wishes on what exactly to read for his evening of relaxation. Slowly, he passed by the reception, aimlessly heading into the seemingly endless shelves.
Through the lenses of his glasses, Hao's chestnut eyes peered around at the spines of books. Titles written in varying fonts displayed themselves, eye-catching titles designed to generate interest. A gentle 'hmm' escaped his closed lips as he debated his wishes. Each aimless step brought him closer to the end of a small hallway, eyes curiously searching. The chestnut-hues noticed someone reading at one of the provided tables. Initially, the writer's eyes passed over the book, thinking not a penny until he realized the familiarity of the cover.
When his eyes returned, he recognized the familiar title written in blue font and a familiar name. Yanis Marigold, a woman renowned for her artistry and skills in charm making. The published story-styled autobiography of her life, A Life Painted in Charm, was an obscure book. Perhaps available in the library, but rarely checked out if Hao would assume. Astonishment flickered in his chestnut eyes as an unexpected smile touched his face. Moments, where he discovered people with a taste for the obscure, were almost nonexistent!
Slowly, he approached, wishing to speak to the gentleman holding the book.
"I didn't know there were other people who read about the life of Yanis Marigold... I think you are the first person I have ever seen reading that book," Hao quietly commented.
While he dived into the book near the beginning of the month, Hao's reading pace proved slow. Busied with work, Hao was approximately three quarters into the wonderful book about a woman equally as wonderful. The surprise in his eyes were evident in small ways. The soft glint in his eyes and the gentle curvature of his lips displayed a calm, yet, astonished expression. For once, the writer found himself wishing to become familiar with someone.
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