Inspire 52 - Week 9. A-Z of Pen and Mind

The pages were absent of markings as she opened the book. Pure whiteness was waiting for a burst of energy as she remained caged only by her will to make the first mark. As she began the scribblings, she recalled how the journey this week had taken her to revisit a drowned soul who told her to go back to where she came from because everyone was waiting for her to arrive. 'Don't let fear wobble you', said her friend, as she was reminded of the grains of seed she had planted. Pen in hand, she continued to scribe her way to the highest mountain and from the top she could trace her inky footsteps that illustrated the path to the top.

Just then, from behind swooped overhead the Junky Funky Flying Monkey. He grasped her with his furry hands and flew her over land and sea. They flew for two days and five nights, she no longer knew where she was or even if she could ever return to where she had come from, but she knew she was safe with his kind heart. 

They were weary when they finally landed but loaded with places and faces they had seen. As she fell asleep in the warm embrace of Junky Funky she drifted into her dreams. She was dancing at a grand ball, all eyes were on her but no-one knew who she was behind the mask. She danced the night away, turning and twisting and gliding into the music. As the clock struck nought in a bolt of light she was transported out into the rain. There was a door that she could not open. No matter how hard she tried she just couldn't open it, 'If only I had they key' she thought to herself, as she resigned herself to being drenched and cold. It was now half past too long and in the midst of the quiet silence came a moment of rest. There were no thoughts and no more dreaming. But it only lasted for a moment as she was stirred from her sleep by the sound of tearing paper. 'What are you doing Monkey!!' she shouted. 'I'm clearing up' said Junky Funky, 'All this stuff needs to go'. Whilst she had been sleeping Junky Funky had been tearing paper all night, so much so that they were taken on a tidal wave of torn paper that swept them away in a gush of howling wind. 'Oh Junky, look what you've done! Why did you need to tear it all up?!!', But it was no good, the flood got bigger and the waves of paper grew higher and stronger, they were floating downstream in an upside down umbrella, rocking, twisting and twirling into a very big whirlpool.

'Paper floods are so much worse than water floods' she thought to herself as she wondered however would she find the X that marked the spot. Had the flood taken her on a new journey? or just down the same path faster, or down the wrong path slower? She just didn't know where she was. As the flood subsided and the umbrella stopped turning quite so fast, she found herself floating alone in the umbrelly boat. Funky Junky was long gone, he had dived into the depths of the paper ocean, she knew she would never see him again. Everything was still again as she twirled in the umbrelly boat under a starry sky, 'Yes!' she said to herself, something was becoming clearer as she looked over the side and saw her zheal reflection looking back. They both smiled.