So, here's my idea.
While signing up for Hacktoberfest this year, I thought "this is about writing code together." What else can we do together?
Write words. Create a little world by storytelling inside this one file.
Everything here goes into the public domain (CC0 license).
- One PR per person (do not cheat for Hacktoberfest — make some other quality PRs!)
- Important: always write at the end of the document. Leave some space for others, so we get some separation
- Write at least 50 (really good) words, but no more than 250. If you haven't guessed yet — write in English!
- Limit profanity, no hate speech, etc. Good intentions only. Let's have some good fun! No pressure
(Also, star the repository, if you like the idea and want more people to see it!)
I'll start with the intro paragraph which is 68 words and is going to be pretty vague, but that's on purpose. Take initiave or follow along with what others have written before you!
I wanted to try something different today. I wanted to write. Writing helps me think. And I had to do a lot of thinking, especially recently. It’s also something that transcends reality in a way, no? When you write you can create your own universe — of knowledge, of chaos, or emotion. And the way I see life is well worth talking about.
It’s been a busy September. I had a lot to get done and I’m still working on finishing some things I started in September. No matter how busy I am, I continue to find time to read — I never want to stop learning. I’m determined to continue this reading habit to support my decision to keep learning new things. It opens my mind! The Purpose Of Life Is Not Happiness: It’s Usefulness. Being useful is a mindset. And like with any mindset, it starts with a decision.
My decision now is to move, it is time. With all of the craziness going on in the world I have realized that there is no time like the present. My decision to move was not sudden, although it still feels that way. Before the pandemic, I felt stuck and wanted to get away, but I kept thinking about all of the reasons not to. You know the usual - bills, insurance, job-search, finding a place to live, being away from family, etc. But after the accident, I knew it was time to go, I now understand that life is too short to live in fear.
I got up from my bed, which was wet from the leak, and put on my boots. I walked into the kitchen, gave my dog his food and topped up with water and gave him a pat on the head. I knew they were coming. I walked outside and I saw him, standing in the rain, staring at me with the type of gaze you only see on TV shoes in his black coat with his black briefcase and black umbrella. He closed his umbrella and just stood there. Getting wet, like the mango...
It started to pour rather strangely and suddenly, and the power went out soon after. A little unsettled, I quickly grabbed my lighter and lit a few candles to get rid of the oppressing darkness. As I was lighting them, I heard a loud, sharp knock at the door. I opened the front door a crack, and saw a young man standing outside in the pouring rain, absolutely drenched from head to toe. I let him in and gave him a towel to dry him up and asked him about his identity then he went very pale, and was quiet for a moment. He then replied that his wife drowned five years ago from today...
“Thank you for the towel, kind sir,” the young man added. In the candlelit room, William – that’s his name – started whimpering a little bit while nostalgically reminiscing about Penelope. “She was like a perfect idea that I built up in my head, then descended from the sky and left me on ‘read’, drenching into the deep waters in terrible guilt, I wanted to love her even if it meant staying still…” And indeed, he was perfectly still, he probably wanted to spend a few more nights with that lady before… the incident. I knew the feeling. I still didn’t know who he was though, although my train of thought ended as soon as he said, “Do you know the mango?” Then I pointed to the leaking faucet with a mango in it. William laughed at me. I even got upset, as if there is some other mango. Like a magical mango or something. William started spouting on about the connection of mangos, Socrates, a specific brand of toaster manufacturers, even a small little Estonian boy for some reason… William was crazy. After all, what widower just shows up at a random person’s house like that and starts talking about mangos, of all things? He asked if I was still listening and I replied, “no,” because I had things to do today. However, in retrospect, that was not a good decision. As the storm was getting ever more intense, the house started to shake. The ceiling was slowly being torn apart.
At first, William got upset with the fact that i wasn't paying enough attention to him talking about his late wife, so i asked him to talk more about who she was, or what she looked like. He then began to describe her, while i was paying more attention this time, since there's not much i can do with this intense storm. He started saying that she had a black short hair, and used to work in a place near the one that i worked some years ago, and while he was showing me a picture of her, i got an epiphany: i reminded that i knew this woman. It was a vague memory, but i was almost sure that i had already seen her back in few years.
It was during my days working at the paper. I worked on the 15th floor, across from the editor's office. There was a girl who brought the mail cart around, and we'd occasionally exchange niceties. William awkwardly prattled on about the mangoes, attempting to fill his lonesome world by speaking into the empty space between the two of us. I continued to fade into my own thoughts. As I wondered about the girl - Lilith, I think - and whether William would judge me by the condition of my flat (the leak in the ceiling above my bed was now a verifiable trickle), that was when I saw it. The man was still outside; standing, stoic, with his umbrella still at his side. Our eyes locked. I felt myself hold my breath. I realized I had mistakenly assumed that the man I'd seen before was William, and knowing that he was not William at all unsettled me. I quickly averted my gaze. William continued: "Penelope really liked mangoes. I used to call her my little mango. Funny you should have one in your sink. Ehm... what's with that guy out there? He's got to be crazy, standing out there like that..." William motioned to the window and began to stand. As his chair scraped at the floor, a loud thud emanated from the corner of the room. We both turned our heads and gaped in disbelief at the mess of soggy plaster and water that was now rushing in from the ceiling.