This is the conclusion of a 3 part fiction story. Find Part 1 here and Part 2 here
A siren jolted her back from her memories. Leaning over she saw an ambulance shoot past on her way to the hospital. Someone wasn’t having a good night.
She took a deep breath wiping away the tears the memory had brought back. The wounds from that day were still as raw today as the day they were made so many years ago. Her mother had been dead for a decade. She’d been unable to slay the memories she left.
The joy of receiving the cheque from the magazine was muted by the pain of having her dream pounded into the dust. She had gone to college, graduated second in her class from an engineering technician program.
Her diploma got her a job working in the engineering department of a service company. She was good at her job, working herself into a good paying position. It was always just a job. Something she did to pay the bills.
Writing was still what brought her pleasure, most of the time. She would write articles, consider submitting them to publications, print them out and add them to her someday pile.
When blogging became something people did, she occasionally envisioned herself writing a blog. Coming home from the job to spend time sharing her thoughts and ideas with the world. The ideas of people maybe liking her work made her smile. Then she’d see the stories about how brutal the critics could be.
She would explore the blogging sites, even hover over the button to create a blog. She went as far as considering a name. She liked the idea of “Out of the Shadows” for a name. It would be like her finally coming out of hiding with her writing. In the light of day, the idea was added to the someday pile.
She enjoyed reading the classic myths and fairy tales. Several years ago she started choosing a story, breaking down the characters and timeline before rewriting it. Sometimes she just wrote it from the point of view of a different character. Other times she shifted the storyline into another era.
She created a new world with each story. She sometimes returned to the idea of publishing them. There were so many places she could publish without even submitting them to a gatekeeper. The internet had allowed people to do their own publishing. Some even got paid. Eventually, she’d sigh and add the story to the someday pile.
She loved the internet. She could wander aimlessly around the world finding all kinds of wonders and adventures. A click of a link could take her places she never dreamed.
One late night, the click of a link brought her to a site called Hive. She was going to click away from yet another blogging site when she spotted the dollar amounts shown on the posts. She explored further.
The amounts shown on even short posts was surprising for her. She didn’t know there was blogging sites that paid their writers. Where did the money come from? She explored further. Turns out the payments would pay out in a cryptocurrency called HIVE.
She spent some time exploring the posts looking for some indication that this crypto stuff could actually be turned into money. Fiat they call money she’s used to spending. Finding some posts talking about how to convert the funds caught her interest.
Could this be a way to write what she wanted and earn? She was intrigued enough to consider maybe finally publishing something. She looked up at the someday pile and felt the familiar tension creeping in. Maybe not.
Over the next few days her mind kept wandering back to the site. It caught her attention more than anything had in years. Her mind would wander over the writing she had in her someday pile.
Every time she thought she would use something from it, the familiar tension returned. Maybe she should try writing something new. Break the barrier with something written especially for the site.
That is what brought her to the humming beast demanding her attention this night. Her head and her gut were having a battle of wills. Her head told her this was different, the gut disagreed.
Her head was pushing her. Your mother is dead, kill her messaging now. Her head wanted to. The gut kept screaming NO! She’d gone all these years why did she want to upset things now?
Her head was more rational than the gut. The head pushed hard to take the lead, to get something new written. It wasn’t easy, the gut wasn’t going to give up years of writing but not publishing. The idea of pushing that button was terrifying. It was putting up a tough fight, the body was taking a beating.
She was all too aware of the struggle going on inside her. It was exhausting. She didn’t know what she wanted to do more: run screaming into the night, curl up in bed with her softest blanket, go buy that bottle of scotch, give in or just write the damn post and hit the button.
She shook her head, stood back up and stretched. Her body ached with tension. She needed to take control and somehow put the battling wills under control. She was leaning into the the head’s advice. She yearned to experience the thrill of earning for her writing. To be able to enjoy receiving it.
Having shook off some of the tension she returned to the humming beast and went to work proofreading and editing what she’d written. Next she found a photo to accompany it. With a deep breath, she opened the site and logged into the account she had opened the night she found the site.
The gut was screaming and kicking in protest. The head was her cheering section while she transferred the text and image into the site’s editor. She had learned hashtags were needed to have a chance to be found. She entered them.
The gut was kicking harder than ever. She paused, and looked intently at the publish button, studying it. The mouse cursor was hovering over it. She could feel the the battle. Before she could bolt, she hit the button. Her head cheered, the gut screamed.
“I prefer my pie on a plate thank you mother,” she muttered.
Shadowspub is a writer from Ontario, Canada. She writes on a variety of subjects as she pursues her passion for learning. She also writes on other platforms and enjoys creating books you use like journals, notebooks, coloring books etc.
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Out from under her mother's shadow, finally! Hurrah!
Beautifully written. Gripping story. Loved it! 💛
sometimes the break just has to come ... beside I think she likes pie.
Thank you
ROFL!
Much better on a plate, than in the sky! 😂
Thank you for letting me read this story. I loved every moment of reading it. I loved the end best of all. Going against what our moms told us about ourselves is the hardest thing to do. An ongoing thing for some of us....unfortunately......