Ashmiza Qita stared at the blank screen in front of her.
“Write about an ‘ah-ha moment,’” her teacher’s voice said in her mind. “Write what you know.”
Ash glanced at the clock in the lower corner her compatible computer. 17:00.
After staring at her clock for another three minutes, she spun her chair around with her joystick. It hovered off the ground, showing her the rest of the room for ideas.
Across the room was her window screen.
“Window,” Ash said clearly. “Next.”
A cobblestone street appeared with the ancient temples of Rome on its sides. The chatter of tourists and the smell of pizza filled the air. Rome was built up around her, a thousands years of history behind it.
“Next.”
The Eiffel Tower rose above her as pink, sunset light glistened off the Seine. One by one, the streetlights flickered to life. Paris’s love surrounded her.
“Next.”
Birds called to one another, their bright feathers whirling through the sky. Monkeys swung from branch to branch, making the light filtered through the leaves swirl across the floor. The Amazon Rainforest danced in full swing.
“Next.”
Red and orange light glowed and bounced off the ground as scientists in thin space suits rushed from one dome to another, carrying specimens, equipment, and maps. Human civilization on Mars burst through the window.
“Next.”
Ash flipped through countless scenes, each one as average as the next. Leaving the window screen on real-time, she kept looking for more ideas.
Her old space helmet sat in on a bookshelf from her field trip to Venus. Ash drove her chair over to the shelves and picked up a piece of paper off the shelf and folded it in half. It instantly expanded to be a full book.
The Art of Creativity the cover said in gold painted letters. She flipped through its countless pages on ideas and imagination.
Nada.
Zip.
Diddly-squat.
Some of her other books included The Cure for Cancer; A Stroke of Genius, Where the Bees Went, and Dark Matter; The Space Around Us.
Haven’t humans had any good ideas yet? Ash wondered as her chair floated back to her desk.
17:45, her clock reminded her.
Ash pushed a small button on the side of her computer, and it folded into a card, perfect for fitting in a wallet and light as a quarter (not that anyone still uses quarters; Paypal is so much easier). Slipping it in her pocket, she hopped down the stairs to the living room.
“Mom, I’m going to get a cupcake,” Ash said, heading for the door.
“Be back by 18:30!” her mom called to her.
At the door, Ash plugged in the address of her favourite cupcakery “Baking Me Crazy.” The door glowed blue as she stepped through and onto the sidewalk, directly in front of the store. Ash ordered a triple chocolate cupcake and expanded her computer.
As the chocolate hit her tongue, her teacher’s words echoed in her mind.
“Write what you know.”
Ash’s fingers pricked on the keys.
“Ashmiza Qita stared at the blank screen in front of her…”