by Colette Max
The designer stared at her blank sketch pad, eyes red with rage. All of her frustrations reflected back at her like a mirror, making her cry out with aggravation. Expectations for a captivating winter clothing line weighed down on her like a lifetime's worth of stress and it was slowly chipping away at her patience. The designers rage turned into smoke that slithered to cover the blank page like a lock, but no matter how hard she tried she could not reveal what the lock was keeping her from drawing. Her breaths became short and stress took hold of her, shaking her like a rag doll. Then she heard a music note and it snachted her out of stress deadly grasp.
The note was merely a whisper but it was enough to give her hope. The designer followed the note into her mind. Fearing that she would lose the note, she closed her eyes looking for any way to wrench off the lock on her blank page. She found herself in a desert, its ground a color red that reflected her frustrations. The note whispered in her ear again, begging her to follow it, and she ran for it breathing hard. She could now taste the sweat stress was bringing but choked it down, trusting in the note to be the key to the lock that clouded her mind. The note morphed like a butterfly into a sweet melody, one that a mother would use to put a baby to sleep, but it was not enough to be the key to the lock. She coxed the music on and it grew louder and louder until a CRACK ripped through her mind releasing as many Starlings as there are stars in the sky. The Starlings bumped and crashed into one another not knowing which way to go or what notes to sing. They fubbled along as if they were taking their first steps. Squawking noises came from all different angles like a clock with the wrong time and loud enough that the noises could make a dead man writhe in his grave. Each Starling was like a snowflake, beautiful on its own but together they can shine brighter than diamonds. Finally, straightening their small wings they flew in harmony and sang together so enchantingly that Mozart would appaud the little birds. The designer smiled and opened her eyes to hear the Click as the lock met its key.