The candle next to me wavers as if it’s unsure if it should continue. A battle rages between crisp, white paper and the dark, black ink that is slowly gaining ground.
Two opposing forces. One, longing for peace and quiet; the other, striving for total domination. Blank space shrinks as ink decimates line after line, marring a previously untouched canvas. Letter after letter marches forward, blindly charging onto the page, like men going over the wall during WWI.
A bloody massacre is unfolding before my eyes. But then I remember:
Perspective is everything.
Suddenly, the scene transforms before my eyes. I now see the players in a different light.
Two passionate lovers, entwined in a dance as old as time. The paper gently embraces each new letter as blue ink strokes across the page. I see a match made in heaven, a symbiotic relationship between ink and paper.
As a key fits into a lock, one sentence after another is perfectly fitted onto the sheet. Paragraphs are formed as the ink and paper beautifully work together to form something whole. Something that wasn’t there a moment ago.
I smile as I see new life on the page in front of me.