The blank page. An untravelled road. A journey about to unfold. I'm rapt in thought, my pen poised for action, when a beckoning stranger materializes, waves me toward her.
"Come on. Come along. Take a chance. You won't regret it," she calls out with a wink and an impish grin. Her voice is low, slow and sultry. It whispers to me like the wind that swirls dust around her buffed leather boots, and leaves its powder on the well-worn tires of her cherry red car.
The engine hums. The passenger door yawns open, waiting.
Where will the voyage take me? Should I answer the siren call of the intriguing stranger?
We've just met, yet I feel I know her, so this blank page holds no terror. I can take the ride, handle whatever comes. Finally I call back, "Sure, I'll go along," and my pen races across the paper, transporting me to the car door and inside. My new travel partner guns the engine, but she's no longer a stranger. I've named her Marina. Quickly my writing fills one page, spills over to the next, and so our adventure together has begun. . . .