What do you enjoy doing most in your leisure time?
It was a rare free weekend, and I had no plans—just a full day to do whatever I pleased. I settled into my favorite chair with a cup of coffee, the aroma filling my small study room. My laptop sat in front of me, waiting to be opened.
Writing. That was what I loved the most in my leisure time. Not just any writing—stories that could transport me into different worlds, different times, and different lives.
As I began typing, my imagination took over. A spaceship hurtling through a wormhole, a warrior battling demons in ancient Japan, a detective chasing shadows in a misty London alley—my mind danced between realms, each one more vivid than the last.
But suddenly, something strange happened. My fingers froze mid-sentence, and the screen of my laptop flickered. A bright light emerged from the screen, swirling like a portal. Before I could react, I felt a force pulling me in.
When I opened my eyes, I wasn’t in my study room anymore. I was standing on the deck of a massive pirate ship, the salty ocean air filling my lungs. A burly pirate with a hook for a hand stomped toward me.
“Who be ye, landlubber?” he growled.
I blinked, my mind struggling to process the situation. Had I just been sucked into my own story?
“You there, answer the captain!” another pirate barked, nudging me with the barrel of a musket.
Thinking fast, I decided to play along. “Uh… I’m a storyteller,” I said, straightening my posture. “And I have a tale that will make even the toughest pirate tremble.”
The captain narrowed his eyes. “A storyteller, eh? Then spin yer yarn, but if it be dull, ye’ll walk the plank.”
With no other option, I took a deep breath and began narrating a thrilling tale of a pirate who outwitted the devil himself. The crew leaned in, hooked by every word. Even the captain seemed enthralled.
By the time I finished, the sun was setting, and the pirates erupted into cheers.
“Ye’ve got the tongue of a sea bard, matey!” the captain declared, slapping my back. “Welcome aboard!”
Just as I was about to celebrate, the portal reappeared, pulling me back. I tumbled onto my chair, breathless, the smell of salt and rum still lingering in my nose.
I stared at my laptop. The words I had written were different. The pirate story was now fully formed, as if I had truly lived it.
I leaned back and laughed. “Now that’s what I call a leisure activity.”
And with that, I picked up my coffee, smiled, and began writing again—wondering where my imagination would take me next.
#Jaswanth
HURRICANE 
Leave a reply to Uday Cancel reply