He encouraged. He nagged. He chided.
She cribbed. She denied. She refused.
He wanted her to come out of the cocoon and paint the world with words.
And she abhorred the idea of leaving her warm abode and venture out.
And she didn't know how to.
He retired for the night.
She sat at her desk.
He dreamt about her dancing letters forming a story. Their story.
She chewed the pen till it had ugly scars.
He slept with a calm countenance.
She doodled on the empty notebook.
--------
His slumber was interrupted by the morning sun.
She was gone.
He was happy. He smiled.
An open notebook, doodles all over. And...
"This story is about a little girl who couldn't write, and a little boy who made sure she did.
This story is about a little girl who thought she couldn't write, and a little boy who made sure she didn't feel so.
This story is about a little girl who learnt how to write, and a little boy who made sure she kept doing so.
This story is about a little girl and a little boy who shared the love for words."
He smile. Again. He knew he succeeded. Again.
