The Weapons of Words

Her words stood at the edge of the page, an army ready for action. She sat in her seat trying to shake off the nerves that crawled on her skin. Each word was a weapon and she was more than prepared. Every move was carefully thought through, every second planned. An eerie calm settled over her as she realized that despite her best intentions, war was inevitable. It had been decided long ago, without her consent. She had been warned and given ample time to arm herself but there was no way to get out of it. Her words didn’t want to walk away. They were ready to fight. She scooped them up into the palm of her hand where they felt safe. Looking down at the page they slowly cluttered into her mouth and formed a shield of protection. Standing up became easier and each foot moved in front of the next until she was at the front of the room. Deep breaths were still crucial, she reminded herself with a shaky smile. Eyes met her own with such an intensity her heart leapt. There was no backing out now. She drew out her first weapon with scary precision. Astounded with her performance, she blinked and stepped backwards. Her hands steadied and one by one she attacked, diving into the peering eyes which began increasingly less threatening. When it was over she was tired and her insides shook. A broad smile lined her face and she wiped her sweaty palms on the front of her shirt. Thunder filled the room and then abruptly stopped. A tall man stood and congratulated her. “That was an excellent presentation.”





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