Tell Me Your Name

Monday

(Author's Note:

Text copyright megwapo 2021

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***

As she was settled in the podium, looking down on a pool of people with solemn faces in black; she took out the paper and started to read...

Sabrina deleted the whole sentence and hunkered down her desk with a deep sigh.

I am never going to write anything at this rate, she thought.

Sabrina had written a full novel before and it was quite a success, even with the lack of writing experience or a full-on education on literature. The novel was about two women stuck in a day-loop, forgetting about each other every night but falling in love with each other every morning. That novel created a huge rise in her social media following. She was never on social media, but her agent encouraged it, so she humored them.

That had been about a year ago though. She's been on book signing, and tours, and book reading events. She had been invited to thousands of lesbian parties and LGBTQ events. She has become very mainstream in the LGBTQ community. But with all the chaos going around, Sabrina couldn't write one sentence for a new book. She just isn't inspired enough.

She stood up from where she sat and walked across her dimly lit apartment to the window, her hair dark and long, swung behind her. She watched serenely as traffic below began to thicken

There's so much noise, how can I write with all this noise? She grunted.

Sabrina had always prided herself to be an introvert, it worked well with her work too. However, since she's pushed herself to be so connected to the outside world in the form of social media, she's starting to lose touch with her creative side. She's tried to outline a story and it never really worked out for her. She looked up and checked the time, it was only about 6 a.m., she thought she better go down to the RV café a little earlier than usual.

Maybe, just maybe, I'd bump into an inspiration. She carefully lifted her hair into a neat ponytail, took her coat from the hanger, and walked out; checking for the second or third time that her keys are in her pocket and that the door behind her was locked.

***

Sprawled like a bird on a flight on her apartment floor, Victoria, who's been painting since the dawn of yesterday hadn't had much sleep. Pumped with coffee and ideas, she'd been awake for almost a full 24 hours. She stood up slowly, cracked her aching neck sideways, and wiped her painted hands on her now-multicolored white shirt.

As she was looking at her freshly painted canvass, she smiled and thought, I did a heck of a job, yep!

In front of her was a girl in the middle of a stimulating mix of saturated colors it was almost garish. But the energy that is immediately surrounding the girl is muted, almost lonely – a huge contrast on the colors surrounding her. Tori, as to how she prefers to be called, was almost surprised with the outcome. She'd always been the type who paints as she goes. She doesn't think about what she's going to do, she just picks up a brush and does it.

This painting, though, gave her a bit of a chill and made her a bit proud of her accomplishment. She walked backward, still looking at her new masterpiece, and felt for the kitchen counter. As she touched it, she accidentally pushed the coffee jar and it hit the floor with a smash.

"Darn it!" she bellowed and breathed in.

Tori has always been told that she was crude and impatient, something she's been trying to curb for a while now.

"So that's it then, eh? No coffee for me?!" She said out loud, clearly annoyed.

She looked at the clock and was confused if it was 6 in the morning or afternoon. She looked at the nearest window, that's been covered with used canvass, tore it down, and had just realized that it was already morning.

Sighing, Tori ravaged through the disarray on her desk to look for her wallet. When she found it, she rushed outside to look for coffee.