Door Number 44


Hi There!

Sometimes creativity doesn’t come that easy or what is worst; it comes at night while you are sleeping, so what to do or not to do becomes the question.


Once upon a time there was a block where a group of kids have never spoken a word in their lives; but then someone, who knows who figured out the mistery of the words’ room. You see, an old building had a room that was fed with trillions of words from all around the world. If you got into the room you could borrowed words, but there was a trick. You could only borrow 15 words per week and guess what; you could only speak those 15 words. The kids that had never spoken a word felt so good about it, they thought it was in fact a miracle created just for them, they wanted to hear their voices. But you know, speaking only with those words became a challenge, but a kid told the others “Lets pick the words that we need to create a sentence”, imagine just that. By the way, if each kid borrows 15 words, but wants to use only 13 and borrow the other two to the next kid, you could do it, but you needed to do it before left the room. You see kids were like playing scrabble with their words. I find that fantastic. They spent hours and hours in that words’ room. But at one point, someone from the group, Tom asked the others: “Where do words come from?” So they all started wondering about that and then they started wondering about where you can find words and the most important wonder of all was about was: “Where does this room gets its power?” They are still working on it, trying to find the answer, but at the end what really matters is that they have discovered their own voice, their own creativity, their own way to spend the time and do some good with it.


Published by: sserrat

I'm the new black, but in color and that color is all the words that come up from inside my head. Fact: This Blog is for me to feel like a real writer. It's just like the feeling that the characters from the movie "you got mail" felt when those words appeared on the screen, that's how I feel when I clicked on P.U.B.L.I.S.H.E.D. That's just a great feeling. I can't see myself no writing in the sense of forever. Writing is magic and when you read me becomes true and when you comment starts to scream. I just love it. A place to be, to let myself go.

Categories English, post, Short StoryTagsLeave a comment

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