“CONSOLE BATTERY LOW” flashes on the left hand side of the screen, reminding her to put her console away and charge.
She unlocks her phone, and presses ‘play’ on her playlist. A stream of notes from Beethoven and Mozart flows through her ears, and proceeds to light up her mind with more and more ideas. The piece she’s been working on for her Creative Writing course: writing a small story, seemed to be an easy task at first. But now, it was more daunting than climbing Mount Everest.
The writing is ignored as she picks up her phone again, headed to Twitter to numb her senses. Notifications and hours pass by. “Back to work,” she mumbles to herself. A soft voice, hardly slipping through.
She flips through her sticker books, looking to decorate her laptop sleeve and her Hydro Flask bottle. A rare, yet tiny, burst of energy. Her eyes light up at the sight of the novelty stickers; childish yet perfect for the occasion. She resumes her work, after spending minutes mentally anguishing over the placement of her stickers. Up goes the brightness on her screen, and up goes the volume of the screams from her phone.
Daydreams invade her brain, as she thinks of love and the unattainable concept of being loved by someone else. Sleep begs to bed her, a yearning lover fighting for her attention over the laptop screen. She continues to stay awake, despite the flirtatious efforts of Hypno, god of sleep. Her phone goes off again, and her attention is stolen yet again.
Why is it so hard to write? She thinks to herself.
A grunt, and a strangled yelp, erupt from her vocal chords as she bangs her head on her desk. She turns her phone on, raising the volume on her playlist and returning to work at once. Beethoven’s Third Symphony begins to blast, every note stringing her brain in new directions as she types away on her laptop. Hypno was nothing more than a passing thought as the day turned to night, and night turned to day again.