It lay, glaring at me.
Bold as brass but far more flashy. It wasn’t meant to cause offence of course, just inspiration: an invitation from a friendly source with the aim to inspire.
Yet it lay on my screen, blinking out it’s gesture in defiance of my inability to react. It sat, expectantly in my list, silently demanding a reply with its innocent face. For a time I stared back, waiting to see if I could scare it into submission, assert my own blank dominance and allow it a healthy retreat.
But the invitation stood its ground, raising my heckles and taunting me with its propitious prompt. It mocked me for idleness, chided the brain numbing sloth I had succumbed to, and spurred me into action.
The singular word became clear.
It was an invitation to write.