It was one of those days when his thoughts were everywhere but nowhere in particular. Work had started early at the studio and he was already immersed in one project with a dozen others in tow. So he had no time to entertain his thoughts that were filling his head. But requests had been coming in daily since they had opened their small studio in the corner of Merry Street and they were working over time and looking like zombies by the minute. Maybe because it was called `merry' so things were certainly heading in that direction most of the time. It's not that he didn't appreciate the cash that was pouring in, but how could he remain sane when inside he was screaming for help. He stared at the image he had been trying to sketch for the past half hour and tore the paper from its easel crushing the paper into a ball and pretending the rubbish bin was a basketball hoop. The bin was almost overflowing with similar paper balls and needed to be emptied. His barely made the shot and he groaned in frustration. He never missed a shot. What he missed was that feeling of control he got when he was on the court and what he was lacking now was just that. Control. He had buried his feelings for three years thinking she had slipped away from him but what he just found out was not what he had expected. Never in a million years would he suspect his best friend to betray him and yesterday he realized what a fool he had been.Why is it that the people you trust the most end up hurting you the most?
- my not so 15 minute writing storm-
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