“Tell Your Story…” She Seductively Calls
The blank white page on Medium can be a difficult mistress.
NSFW
The blank white page on Medium can be a difficult mistress.
The following is a metaphorical tale of what the “Tell your story…” prompt on Medium can feel like.
I wake up, I look, I stare. Her blank white page on my screen notices me. “Type on me. Tell your story…” she seductively calls, shining her bright, milky, white page deep into my tired eyes.
“Oh, I will,” I shout back, preparing my fingers for hours of delicate caressing of the keys. But first…
I send the kids to school and see my wife pull out of the driveway. I sip the last remnants of my dark, hot, drink and prepare. Slowly, I walk up the stairs, cracking my knuckles, flexing them for what is to come.
I return to my seat, wiggle her mouse, and click her keys. The light awakens and her glow greets me. “Tell me your story…” she whispers in my ear. I can almost hear her sweet, sultry, voice.
I lay my fingers on her and slowly press down. One flick of the wrist and then another — my fingers move gently as not to demand too much too soon. Soon a thought appears in my mind. A beautiful story of love and nature. “I must tell this tale,” I think to myself. “And she will be the one who tells it.”
I begin again. I can feel fans quiver and shake as the words begin to come through me into her. Letters turn to words, words into sentences…
…sentences into paragraphs.
I hear her begin to hum as my fingers move faster. The screen flickers with my deepest desires. An almost squeal of excitement begins. The clicks and clacks, the words race across her face. “I’m so good at this.” I think to myself, nodding back and forth.
I breathe in and out, slowly at first, but gathering speed as my fingers move faster. Finally, the real show begins.
I scroll up and down, feverishly moving from end to beginning, formatting, copying, pasting — the story spread wide upon the screen for me to enter my dreams and passions. her endless white page has become filled with everything I could want and everything I could be.
I pause, only for a moment, to observe the magical spell which I placed on her. She is in a trance of ecstasy, waiting for me and only me. I begin again, faster this time. Red and blue lines disappear as I swiftly roam across her, finding every nook and crevasse to touch. Each part of her smooth, white, screen I fill with emotion.
The symphony of love crescendos!
“More, MORE!” she demands. I cannot give much more as beads of sweat run from my face. I struggle to keep up with her ever-increasing desires. I can feel her virtual hands reach around me and pull my mind deeper inside of her dreams.
Suddenly, I finish.
The squeal becomes a hum, which turns to silence. Her gaze turns into to abandonment. She stares at me, longing for more.
I’m sorry, but it’s over. My work is complete,” I whisper as I stand.
“Where are you going? Come back and give me more!” she screams. I crack a smile and face her white page still beaming with need.
“I’ve had my fill of you today. And tomorrow, we will start again.”
She cries, “But you can’t leave me. Your story, it’s not finished. It’s never finished. You could add more exposition, another scene of dialogue, or twist my plot! You promised to use my keys until your story was told!”
Sternly, I raise my voice over hers. “I am finished, and so too are you!”
I place my hand on her and slide my finger over her button. For a moment, she inhales quickly at the chance of her demands being fulfilled. Yet, I continue, “You are a thought I cannot give my soul too, because you have no soul to receive it with. You are cup that can’t be filled, a tree that cannot be planted, an equation of which there is no solution. So, tomorrow I’ll return with a new story, perhaps, and what fun we will have together!”
Before she can speak, I press the power button and turn off the computer. The screen flickers for a moment and fades to black. Silence returns to the room. No humming of fans or clacking of keys.
I walk downstairs to refill my coffee, let the dogs outside, and begin to work.