She stared at the paper for another five minuttes, its blank whiteness hurting his eyes.
She just wished it to be gone, or filled out, black and filled up to the brim with long, complicated words, moving and turning and twisting into sensual sentences.
The paper moved nowhere, because there was no paper at all, only a dimmed screen with the slightest smudge at the bottom, probably from whatever she ate earlier, still smelling in the bright, clean room. Her mother had told her to clean it for weeks, and it took her days and days to clean out the stuff, leaving only emptiness.
Very little space, she thought. Very little space to do things. It wasn’t true, of course, as the white walls unfolded around her computer, with the seven-pointed star atop the window. There was plenty of space, especially upwards.
It didn’t feel that way. She closed her computer, walked around in a small circle, feet tipping back and forth like an entrapped dog, and soon the computer ensnared her back to her chair in front of the white walls and the window. It was snowing outside.
The paper was blank. So full of space and nothingness, a white mess, a filled-up-joyful peace of virtual joy, living life to its fullest and going nowhere. She knew she needed to fill it out. Fill out that space, she thought. Do it. Now.
Sooner and later, stars shined in her eyes as the idea formed in her head, and she wrote. Black letters twisted and turned down the paper, spelling and speaking and screaming with joy as they slowly gave form to the paper, which, in a final release, gave up and conformed to their wishes. It was a great day, and snowing outside from above.