The body was thrown 20 feet away from where it first stood. Shopping bags lie around with their contents scattered around. Blood flowed like wine licking the road.
3:00 P.M. – FBI HQ
John’s phone started ringing. He was in the middle of a meet.
“Hello. John Furwin here.”
3:15 P.M. – Carson Avenue
“Hi. This is John Furwin. I am on my way to the spot right now. Should be there in five”
3:20 P.M. – Scene of the accident
He crossed the yellow tape barriers that are usually seen at a crime scene.
“Agent Furwin? Hi. I am Adams, from the local PD”
“Hello Adams. Brief me.”
“Apparently, a black van – the semi van types actually was speeding down the road. It hit a woman crossing the road and fled. It looks more like a hit and run case.”
“I see. Did we check the road footage and get a positive ID on the woman?”
8:28 P.M. – Bengaluru, India
“Whoa! Stop peeping into my work man!”
“Dude. I swear you have been watching too many movies! Look at what you are writing! For God’s sake!”
“I just want to run away from that pessimism oozing out of you man. Can you write this way? Can you even think this way? At least I have imagination!”
“Every crime plot starts this way. If JJ Abrams writes it, it’s awesome! If I do the same, it sucks? Gross injustice man. I swear. By the way, there is a twist to the plot. You never know how it is going to end.”
Vishal sighed, “Hmmmm. Let us see. How it goes.”
10: 30 P.M. – Hyderabad, India
Raghu’s mind starts thinking hard. “A plot within a plot? Am I getting it right? Isn’t it just like a dream within a dream? With all due respects, Nolan, I don’t mean to copy your stuff in any way!”
He had been sitting at his desktop for a few hours. Nothing concrete seemed to follow on the screen. He had been using the backspace and delete functions way too many times now.
“Vishal and Vivek? Thank god I did not use Vishal and Sekhar. Agent John Furwin? Officer Adams? What stupid names! Readers will spit hard on this post. I am dead sure about it.”
He knew that he was not getting it right. Starting from the opening scene to the names, everything was the perfect recipe for an epic disaster. But still he wanted to write. He did not know what the readers wanted. Do we have to even write for someone else? Or do you just write so that you can read it yourself over and over again in the future and be surprised at your own writing skills?
But he had already created lot of short stuff and posted them on his blog. People did read but how many he did not know. There was always this feeling inside that his work was not good enough.
“Baaahh…i should just be honest and passionate about my writing. Whatever the subject might be. People will eventually start liking it. People will eventually start loving it.”
“I will surely beat you one day Mr. Visionarywriter!”
Convincing himself, he got back to his screen and keys.