The Midnight Page

A flash-fiction glimpse at the moment writing magic sparks to life.

At 2:10 a.m, Sabrina stared at the blinking cursor on her blank document, its steady pulse more mocking than comforting. Rain tapped insistently against the windowpane, a rhythm that matched the race of her thoughts. She closed her eyes, remembering her grandmother's voice reading fairy tales by lamplight-how a single sentence could shimmer in the dark.

Fingertips poised above the keys, Sabrina whispered into the silence; "The page came alive." As soon as she typed those words, the room warmed around her, and letters danced onto the screen as if they'd been waiting all night. Characters emerged: a curious fox with emerald eyes, a clock maker who sold time in jars and a poet who stitched words into wings.

With every line, Sabrina felt the fear of the blank page dissolve. By the time her story's final word-"dawn"-filled the page, she realized the real magic wasn't on the screen, bit in the courage to begin.