Abidemi Sanusi : When I write

When I write

Something exciting happens when I open up the laptop and I insert my memory stick into the usb port. As I open my latest Work in Progress (WIP), my fingers start tingling in anticipation as they savour the precious moments before they're unleashed to whatever devices my imagination decides is their fate for the day. Sometimes, I stretch out the moment, prolonging the sweet agony of waiting, knowing that the liberation of my imagination is at my fingertips, and yet revelling in its denial as I draw a curious strength from the fact that the power to free my fingers is ultimately down to me, and me alone.

When my fingers touch the keyboard, they do not dance. They tear across it, fly over it and occassionally, claw against it in anger as the words I need do not come. Sometimes, my fingers are impatient. I hear them telling my imagination, faster! faster! And at night or in the darkest dawn, when I, with the rest of the world am asleep, they tap the imaginary keyboard on the bed with urgent whispers, the keyboard awaits.

I'm at the keyboard. The fingers are playful, but I know that soon, they will ask, are you ready to fly?