prompt: compare academic writing to creative writing
It occurred to her that the boy had been writing music. Perhaps it may not seem remarkable to some, but it did to her. It was like seeing someone read a contemporary fiction novel on a cafe or park bench. She couldn’t explain it, but she loved the feeling of people doing something which they loved. Not for school assignments. Not for money. Just spending time on anything but their phones or on their biological needs. It was like a romantic relationship with oneself.
How could someone be so perfect? She kept on wondering to herself ever since she saw the boy on the Subway. It was just a quick glimpse really. He got off in a few stops and she was sitting too far away from him to initiate a casual conversation. He had a laptop open on his lap, appearing to do a delicate task. His brow furrowed with concentration. Minutes later, his phone rang, and the boy put the call on speaker phone for a few moments. Perhaps it was by accident.
“Well Shapla, are you just going to compose scores all day?”
It occurred to her that the boy had been writing music. Perhaps it may not seem remarkable to some, but it did to her. It was like seeing someone read a contemporary fiction novel on a cafe or park bench. She couldn’t explain it, but she loved the feeling of people doing something which they loved. Not for school assignments. Not for money. Just spending time on anything but their phones or on their biological needs. It was like a romantic relationship with oneself.
