Title: A-tisket, a-tasket
Character: Misako
Rating: G
Day/Theme: September 21: A secret unlit room
Notes: Not my favourite drabble of the series, but I like Misako a lot. This drabbles does not do her justice!
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Misako never really wanted to become a writer. She grew up, like every woman in her generation, wanting nothing more but to be a homemaker: to find a decent man to marry, to have children, and to spend her days caring for her family and home. But it was not to be.
Writing didn't come easy for her. Onda blamed her for being a chronic procrastinator, but the truth was she really didn't know how the stories she was writing would continue.
She labored for days, composing sentences in her mind while walking around the house. She liked to think there were different compartments within her mind where different thoughts go into accordingly: the new essay she was asked to do by the Women Writers' Association went to the front left area, the new torture device for Onda she was considering of building in the front garden went to the back right side, the historical romance/smut novel she would never write went to the front right side, and so on.
One stormy night, she sat at the writing table by the window, staring at the falling rain, hoping inspiration would strike. She fell asleep on top of her papers around dawn, smudging ink on one side of her face. Onda slithered in as quietly as possible the next possible through one window whom he had picked a few weeks before in preparation for a day such as this. Trying not to wake her, he carefully slid the papers one by one from being wedged between her head and the table. Ten minutes afterwards, Onda's scream of frustrations could be heard throughout the house from the guest toilet he had locked himself in to read the papers in private.
She was woken up that morning by the last echo of Onda's scream and noticing the bright sunlit garden outside. She had no misconceptions about her talent - she knew she was not a great writer - but there were things, she thought, she was rather good at. Absent-mindedly she reached for her long-cooled green tea and spoke to herself, "What a beautiful morning!"