Stuck for Ideas

Stuck for Words

Stuck for Structure

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She stared at the words on the screen, her hand frozen in mid-air over the keyboard. He had written "Mary Ann" - her real name, not her cyber ID "MX25." She felt the panic hit her. How did he know? How much did he know?

She started as a warm tongue licked the back of her hand. Turning off the laptop, she patted the poodle's head. "Poor Frisk, past your dinner time, huh?"

She woke up drenched in sweat. He was out there somewhere. Someone she did not know. Watching every move she made. She stumbled out of bed to bolt the bedroom door.

She lay awake in the dark, staring at the ceiling. I am darned lucky, she thought. A wonderful house in a prime community, a job at a dot com, what else could a twenty-five-year-old woman want? Except to end the loneliness that drove her to the chat rooms. Forty days. Forty days since she crossed paths with the man who had the arrogance to use the screen name "God". Since then he had dogged her in every chat room and now....No, she thought, he cannot reach me. I won't let him. The sunshine filtering through the curtains mocked her fears.

Bleary with lack of sleep,she poured herself a cup of coffee and picked up the Daily Dispatch lying on the porch. "Real Estate Prices in London Touch the Skies" the headlines screamed. So, what's new? she thought and tossed the paper aside. I'll work from home today, she decided cheering up all of a sudden.

She turned on her laptop to access her work files. An explosion of red roses greeted her with the words , " Hello Mary Ann". What the heck! Hey, I am not even connected to the web - Is it a virus attack again? She stared at the screen with rising dismay. She was about to turn off the machine when the words appeared, "Don't panic, my dear. I wanted you to have the flowers. My apologies for the lost sleep."

"What do you want me to do?" she whispered to the empty room.
"Do my will", flashed the reply on the screen.
"WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?" she screamed.
"Relax, my love. Open your front door. You'll find a bouquet on your porch with a card . It will tell you what to do."
She ran blindly to the porch. There was a huge basket of red roses in a corner. With trembling hands, she opened the card. It read," Meet me today at at Wisteria, in Picadilly at six this evening . Ask the maitre d' to seat you in the corner table facing the pool."

Shall I go? I am a fool to even think of doing this, she berated herself as she took a last look in the mirror. For a blind date, she looked very chic in her flowing black gown with its thin shoulder straps , her raven black hair cascading down her shoulders, she thought smugly.

Her hands were cold as she took her place at the cosy candle-lit table set for two. Maybe he won't turn up after all, she thought , and felt vaguely disappointed.

"You have no right to look so ravishing", a deep masculine voice whispered in her ear. She turned to stare into the dark depths of his startlingly blue eyes.

That was ten days ago. Her hands softly caressed his dishevelled blond hair as he slept . It was the loveliest wedding they had ever seen in the family, her aunt Martha had gushed. "I never thought you could go crazy over a shrink", Emily, her sister, had remarked at the reception.
"Dreaming? About me?" he asked with that incredibly boyish grin .
"You should know. After all you are a shrink who calls himself God," she teased.
"I do," he murmured against her lips.