“There is something about the serenity of a blank page that is absolutely breathtaking.” Thought Megan, as she stared down at her empty sheet of paper.
Words just weren’t coming to her this evening. “And even if they did,” she mused, “I could never write anything as lovely as this blank she of paper.”
It was poetry. It was negative space. It was unbound potential. Her mind raced with the possibilities.
Mr. Mueller had asked for five hundred words on George Washington. She came to his class the next morning with the blank sheet of paper. It wasn’t exactly an essay on George Washington, but it had the potential to be an essay on George Washington, so at least it was something.
“I should at least be congratulated for my creativity, and outside the box thinking.” Thought Megan.
She was surprised to receive an F.
Photo by icon0.com on Pexels.com
29 thoughts on “642: The Serenity of A Blank Page”
This is freaking brilliant!
I have been blogging on something approaching this of late.
Here is my spam:
Thanks! I left you a comment on your post, but the internet anonymized me.
Perhaps the F was for Fantastic Thinking
Laugh, A computer can’t do that for you
There are almost endless possibilities for what the F could mean.
Yess just like that blank paper 🤔🤔
Mr. Mueller did not have an artistic bone in his brain.
He did not. I drink a solution that is.95% calcium every morning in the hopes that developing just such a bone.
And here I thought you were already a bonehead. I mean that in the nicest possible way, of course.
At least she did not get a G or an H.
This deserved a B at the very least. It is a copy of the Bill of Rights of the slaves that Washington inherited at the age of 11.
Oohhh! Systemic oppression!
I mean she should at least get a C for participating!
(Sidenote: “blank she of paper.” you might wanna edit that.)
How dare you infer your gender stereotypes on my story!
Uh… I apologize for my ignorance.
It’s ok. Do better next time.
Megan will make for a stupendous art major.
A blank sheet of paper is the most frustrating single object of all time. Blank sheet of paper + deadline = liver pleading for mercy…
Once for an assignment – “What do you think of de Vinci’s Last Supper” – I handed the lecturer a bunch of flowers. I got an A!!!
she should have said it was a close-up of George’s wooden teeth after he washed them in bleach…
This is why you are such an excellent teacher. You just get this stuff.
or more likely, that was my approach to art when I was in school…
One of the most appealing things about art is that it lends itself to just such a philosophy.