Creativity

This is a short story I wrote after a few days of being void of inspiration, all signs of a decent idea had left me and I got no writing done. Not nice. Then, suddenly inspiration returned, the creativity I had been starved of ran through my being once more and I began to craft my frenzied tales again.This brief lapse and swift regaining of ideas prompted me to write this piece. A short dedicated to creativity itself and to creatives the world over who know the thrills and struggles of having this powerful entity rattling around their heads.   

It flew through the air like a rocket, the atmosphere crackling as it shattered the space around its target. The air grew cold and a change was felt, as an unleashed power ran wild through time. It found its way into its location, biting into the mind as it entered. It shot through the veins of its target like bolts of electricity; lighting the spiralling landscape which it fuelled along its way.

It filled every corner of a once lifeless realm with ideas, thoughts and dreams, as it flew through the many spaces of its new dwelling. It scattered images and worlds beyond reality as it flitted between realms of wonder and destruction, of dreams and nightmares, heaven and peril. Interweaving words and stories blended and meshed into one, as discarded remnants of tales swirled around the space which a mysterious master inhabited.

It darted from luminous places where fluorescent beings entwined, and waltzed across shining, gleaming planes to psychedelic lands of hallucination and exotic atmospheres.

To images of darkness and despair, in which blood soaked warriors and tired corpses laid; their tortured souls and twisted spirits consumed by a remorseless shadow.

From dread and taboos to imaginative fantasies in which dragons and wizards of invincible power were thrown into an overflowing world of light and depth; characters stood upon high plains consumed by thunder, to visions of creatures in exciting multi-coloured universes populated by flying beasts with snarling fangs beyond their vivid red and orange fur.

Through those visions, a manic advisor, an idea in itself, guided the mind into a new consciousness. It was named creativity and the human body was a simple vessel for its purpose.

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