The blank page stares up at me mockingly, daring me to write something. However, I will not be goaded into writing. I will not be intimidated. I will stand fast. This page will remain blank, in spite of its efforts to force my pen to paper.
In this standoff the hostage will remain frozen in fear, gun to head. I will be nothing more than an idle spectator, waiting to see the result of my inaction. I will refuse to buckle to the demands of the criminal. For in the end, that is what this blank piece of paper is, a criminal. It robs me of my thoughts and words, steals my time as I sit formulating ideas to share.
In this standoff the hostage will remain frozen in fear, gun to head. I will be nothing more than an idle spectator, waiting to see the result of my inaction. I will refuse to buckle to the demands of the criminal. For in the end, that is what this blank piece of paper is, a criminal. It robs me of my thoughts and words, steals my time as I sit formulating ideas to share.
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