Euphoria of Writing.

The adrenaline was high. 

I was high on inspiration and intense thrill; and a brain bursting with ideas. 

Because writer's block was finally diminishing. 

At last, an idea struck me fiercely, I should write a short story (which is unusual of me to do) of a deaf spy.

And the story takes place in Kew Gardens. 

And so, everyday, for a week, I wrote and wrote.

Inspiration guided my hands to spill the hidden words in my mind onto the document, 

Spilt with a dash of colourful words and imaginative passages. 

I wrote rapidly, as if the piece of story could show readers how the scene was sped up, reaching the climax of the story. The suspense silence.

At last, I produce a short story, with 21 pages, titling it as 'A Race Against Silence/A Dance With Danger.'

The only difficult part of the story was, providing it with a title. 

Still, I cannot figure out which title suits it best: A Race Against Silence or A Dance With Danger. 

Yes, but the euphoria was high. 

I was exhilarated. 

Finally, I've written something after long time. 

So happy. 

This- unfortunately- was probably the only story I've completed. And edited. 

Now, I await how to continue with my ongoing story, that I yet to finish. 

This, these moments, is what makes me happy about writing.

I love to write. And finish the story.