Mrs. Avocado [Part 1]
The day I met Mrs. Avaocado it was at a coffee shop.
"A cup of flat white with heavy cream and water," I whispered to the barista as if I was on a covert mission. I sat down with my drink by the book shelf in the farthest corner, unable to free myself of this persistent focus on her. I couldn't put my finger on it. Was it her beauty? Her hair? Her simple presence? Her aura?
I grabbed a book and dug myself in, attempting to lose myself in worlds unknown. "It's not what you look at that matters, it's what you see," I whispered. What a delight that I, by chance, chose a book by Henry David Thoreau!
I looked up and was startled by a person standing next to me, looking straight into me. It was Mrs. Avocado! My anxiety levels abrupty rose to the stratosphere. She extended her arm to me. A handshake? Then she said, "Hello, I'm Mrs. Avocado. Call me Avo. Now get up and come with me for the journey of a lifetime."
The Story of a Good Writer
"Good writing is like a windowpane." -George Orwell
Alyssa is and will always be her name.
She wields her pen in sword stance, slays her demons with it and uses their blood as ink to paint a story only she can write. Every stroke of the pen spells a word of her past. It is upon the paper canvas that she will speak her latent testimonies, and breath an extra life into those who listen.
Alyssa's friend Bianca is never pleased: "What have you to gain from writing! It's a waste of time and effort, and you're not even that good at it." Bianca never understood what writing meant. Writing was a doorway for Alyssa to break the inner silence, to speak the unutterable experiences of a past without double. To Alyssa, this was good writing: all writing that was composed of personal experiences. Punctuation and vocabulary are merely secondary to the written experience of a creative soul. An experience, after all, is like a star among stars, each with its own intensity, magnitude and warmth.
A good writer pens a life you've never known before.