Spark Of Inspiration

Imagine what you are writing about, see it and live it. Do not think it up laboriously, as if you were working out a mental arithmetic. Just look at it, touch it, smell it, listen to it, turn yourself into it. When you do this, the words look after themselves , like magic. If you do this, you do not have to bother about commas or fullstops or that sort of thing. You do not look at the words either. You keep your eyes, your ears, your nose, your taste, your touch, your whole being on the things you are turning into words. The minute you flinch, and take your mind off this thing, you begin to look at the words and worry about them..then your worry goes into them and they set about killing each other. So you keep going as long as you can, then look back and see what you have written.

The above was a quote by the great poet Ted Hughes which I found in a book whose name I can't seem to remember that revolved around improving your poetry skills. Funny how a single paragraph can excite that living creature inside you who have been waiting for the exact moment to get inspired back and help you get on with what you enjoy doing the most; writing.

I believe my writer's-block have stayed for so long and I know I must do something about it. I'm glad to say that I haven't got out of the zone totally as I still write my article every week but story-wise, I've missed the thrill and excitement I get over scribbling down the next scenes and scenarios through my characters words. Good news is, a couple of days...Thursday, tops, I'd post a new chapter of Hiatus Lane, inshAllah.

Hiatus Lane [4]

Hiatus Lane ~ Chapter Four
By Kitten

Ali

The phone was ringing alright. And I was absolutely sure who it was. She must have given him the number.

'Ali' Deema shouted. She was drawing in her room, with her door standing ajar. She always left it that way. I guess she had to because Nouf and I do not get along often.

'Yes?'

'Pick up the phone, will you?'

'I'm busy'

'Damn it!' She fumed and got up, causing the chair to knock down on the floor abruptly.

Storming into the living room, I slowly glanced from on top of my PSP to see her. She was a mess, really. Her hair worn in a messy-kind-of-way pony tail, her eyes tired. I was laying on my back on the sofa and the phone's stand was right across. I could have picked up the phone but I didn’t.

Fares

‘This better be good’ I heard her say. She might not have been aware that she voiced her thought out loud. I kept quiet, regretting my childish behaviour. And then a voice from far away that must have been Nouf’s said ‘swearing box’ which Deema responded to by saying ‘gosh, sorry, get a penny from my wallet’.

‘um..hi?’ I said, interrupting the mini talk.

‘Yes, who’s this?’

The moment she heard my name there was a hesitant pause.

‘How’s everything going on?’

‘Good, alright’ she said softly.

‘I thought of escorting Ali and Nouf to the zoo, what do you think?’

‘The zoo’, she repeated.

‘yeah, I thought they ought to attend the opening tonight’.

‘Thoughtful of you, but…’ and Nouf’s thrilled voice stopped her mid-sentence. ‘I want to go to the zoo! Please, Deema, pretty please!’

‘It’s settled then. Meet you guys at 7?’

‘Okay’ and she hung up.

Ali

The moment she held the phone tight next to her left ear and spoke to him, her mind had wandered a million miles. When Nouf asked if she could go, she’d agreed. Even though I was dieing on the inside to head to the zoo, Fares was, in fact, the last person I wanted to be escorted with.

****

Hiatus Lane [3]

Hiatus Lane ~ Chapter Three
By Kitten

Fares

The landlord was a nightmare. What if I forgot (okay, intentionally postponed the date of) handing in the money? Would he lose a dime? He would, technically, but god! He had the whole building for himself. But then again, I wouldn't have rushed through packing 2 years of my life if I weren't forced to.

I had moved into the Pearl hotel luxury when mom sent a reasonable amount of money –god bless her- for the fear of her only son being thrown out to live on the streets. She wouldn't do that under normal circumstances, but what about me that can fall under the normal category, I ask you?

To that day, I was still thinking of Deema's little family. My gut feeling told me she was on a vacation with her siblings for a reason. You don't just get on a plane for the heck of it.

The lobby was muffled with hushed noises, people making deals, others texting and like the majority, I was enjoying the view outside while sipping my latte. I have always favoured these few free-of-work minutes that I made sure to asset some every once in a while.

Outside, there was a teen-aged girl sitting on the bench, checking her wristwatch every 3 minutes. She must be dating someone, I was sure. Then, not far away, I saw the same dude with the dog. Now these two are an art alone. I don't even know why the dog-dude bothers anymore.

Nouf

Ali's been acting weird ever since Deema met the very tall man whose name I couldn't remember. He would ask Deema about him, where's he's from or what he exactly wanted. But I didn't care about him; all I cared about was enrolling in the ballet course. The ad I saw made me go crazy and I quickly ripped it off the wall and shoved it right under my sister's nose. I knew she would get furious because she was working on this particular painting for two days in a row.

'Nouf' she said, using the kind of voice that meant get-away or this-isn't-the-right-time.

'Before you say anything, please read it' I squeaked.

Saying 'Hmm' was good so I waited till she skimmed it and agreed. For it being too good to be true, I had to rush into Ali's room and announce my victory once again.

He said 'Okay' lightly and asked me to shut the door behind me while getting myself out of our room.

Fares

The phone was ringing but I took it as if they're out or they're busy and cancelled the call. I thought of calling again but decided not to. What would she say if she knew I'd been miss-calling the apartment's phone twice?

Hiatus Lane [2]

Hiatus Lane ~ Chapter Two
by Kitten

Deema

If it hadn't been for his polite way of talking, I wouldn't have been at ease talking to a total stranger. Strangely though, with his broad shoulders, he reminded me of a giant bear.

When he complimented my drawings, I had the urge to show him some of my other doodles lying around. I didn't know why, but he seemed interested and I saw myself falling for the attention he gave me.

Ali

I quickly took a bath, changed and peered through the balcony that, luckily, gave me a clear view of Deema and the new dude we met a while ago, Fares. Being the man of the house I am, I reluctantly allowed him to be with her this time, given the fact that they were surrounded by people and I was watching his every move.

I first noticed him earlier, while I was teasing Nouf. I'd stopped splashing water all over her without Deema having asked me to, and that was a first. But I really had a strange feeling about this guy once my eyes set upon him. He could fool Deema but I'm not one to be fooled. He grinned and laughed and cracked joke as if he'd known her his whole life. Heck, he might even think she's his friend from now on. Hold on a second and don't get me wrong: I'm not jealous. It's just that my sister doesn't usually talk with random tall and tanned boys.

'What are you doing?' Nouf startled me. As though I was found guilty of cheating in a Math exam, I tore my eyes away and gazed at the dog that was pulling his owner somewhere near my two targets who also, by the way, looked like they were having the time of their lives together.

Ismael

Wafa hadn't stopped nagging about calling her daughter every single day once I thought they should go and have a blast, without us. Deema herself especially needed that, I knew.

'Let them have fun' I told her.

'Fun?' she gritted between her teeth.

She could be so cute and annoying at the same time when she's angry. Ignoring her, I flipped through the channels till The Simpson characters stood out of all. 'Homer is a God' I shouted 'In India'.

As soon as I said it, I knew it was a mistake for Wafa stared at me, resentfully.

'You don't have a heart in you, do you?' she just said.

**

Hiatus Lane [1]

A/N: As promised, here's the new story that I've been working on lately.

Chapter One

'Deema!' Please ask him to stop!'

Nouf''s pleas of help reached to her oldest sister Deema who wanted some change of scene: instead of having her paintings filled with green-ish materials, she went for blue ones thus she chose to come to the side of the hotel that had a huge swimming pool and the whole accessory of a beach. The sun-kissed sands lay around here and there and the umbrella-shaded benches made it all the more convincing.

'Your sister is calling' He said, the tone of sarcasm filling his voice. Deema looked curiously at the man who was now sitting next to her. He had a muscular complexion, but not the same muscular type you'd see on wrestlers, a pale skin with a slight hint of a tan spread across his face and the most gorgeous emerald-green eyes she’d ever seen.

Fares

Deema, as her sister called, took a moment to reply back, 'Yeah, Ali is a natural teaser, he'd never stop splashing water on Nouf, and it's actually becoming a habit'. I laughed genuinely and reached my hands across and said, 'I'm Fares and you're probably Deema', she grinned and asked, 'Fares, as in..Are you an Arab?'

I wasn't particularly astonished that she'd ask this. People have always mistaken me for several nationalities that were far than mine. 'Yeah'.

'Where are you from?' she asked and quickly added, 'or let me hear your Arabic'.

'Hmm, okay, shu bedii oul?' I said and she immediately said,'Lebanese'.

'You're good. Now it's your turn'.

'Eish tabeeni agool?' she said with a gulf accent.

'Kuwait'

'No'

'KSA'

'No'

'Before I could make a total idiot out of myself, you're from the gulf, right?' I said.
'Of course, keep guessing'.

'Bahrain, Qatar…'

'No to all of those'.

'OMAN!' I almost shouted.

'Yes. I thought you'd never mention it'.

'My bad. I've never heard an Omani accent so..'

'Well' she started saying, and at that moment, her brother and sister approached. She took out two towels from a backpack and handed them over.

'Hey guys', I said, shaking hands with both of them, 'I'm Fares. Do you swim in here often?' I asked.

'I'm Ali', he said and his young sister said, 'we live in that hotel' she pointed at the same hotel I've been living in for the past three days.

'Well, that, happens to be where I am living as well' I replied back and caught a glimpse of Deema offering me a gentle smile.

'So…' Deema said to break the silence, 'how about you guys race each other to the flat and get dressed while I gather around my things?'

'Okay' both Nouf and Ali said in unison as they ran off, their towels wrapped around their bodies.

'Hmm..' I muttered while Deema started stuffing in her belongings inside the brown backpack. There were painting materials everywhere, from brushes to hefty artistic drawing papers.

'I noticed you were drawing something before I came in and interrupted you', I said.

'It was nothing', she shrugged.

'Can I see it?' I inquired.

She handed me the drawing that if someone was to look at it, he'd defiantly mistake it for a photograph. The scene ahead was captured intensely, with every detail standing out perfectly.

The only words I could master were 'Wow'.

'Really?' she asked.

'I'm amazed, Deema, you're very talented but I'm sure you know that'.

*