Tweaked world

Chapter 5

"Your rent is due in the next four months. Pay up or pack out," the paper read.

This was obviously from the landlord, and Mark already had difficulty paying rent without a source of income. Now, the rent would soon be due, and he might end up without a place to call home.

The only option now was to go back to his parents' house, where he could live rent-free. Sighing out loud, he walked inside the apartment with slumped shoulders and a lonely look in his eyes.

That night, he sat at his desk with firm resolve. Clenching the pen tightly in his fingers, he thought about what his friends had told him and what his mother had said concerning his failed writing career.

"I think they are right anyway. Other authors go into writing and make it big, signing autographs wherever they go. But me? Look at me—a fresh graduate from CLEFT University, still struggling to find my way. Most of my classmates are already working in big companies, receiving fat paychecks, while I just scribble away my potential on paper like a lunatic." Mark chuckled mockingly at himself.

There was a dull thud next door. Mark lived in a small bungalow with other co-tenants. The thuds grew louder, and voices were raised—unmistakably a man and a woman's voice. A scuffle ensued, and then all became silent again.

"Mr. and Mrs. Chris are quarreling again. I wonder if these constant quarrels act as a blood tonic for them, as they won’t let a day pass by without arguing," he mused. When all was silent again, he began racking his brain for his next course of action. He considered applying as a waiter at a restaurant down the street to earn small funds for daily necessities but immediately decided against it. He didn't know how to deal with annoying customers who might not be satisfied with his service.

Suddenly, there was a rumble of thunder in the night sky outside the house. It continued incessantly, as if unseen forces were waging war in the realms above. The windows banged against each other, and a strong howling wind echoed as the thunder rumbled on.

A single spark of lightning brightened the night sky, and subsequent flashes invaded Mark's room, causing a blackout to every electronic device in sight. Mark had already dived for safety during the unexpected lightning strike, inevitably knocking over his desk and sending its contents tumbling to the floor.

During this moment of confusion, the last flickers of lightning crackled lowly from the only light bulb in the room and zapped into a pen that had fallen from the table. The pen glowed a brilliant blue for a moment before returning to normal.

Having not witnessed this strange phenomenon, Mark got up from where he had dived for safety, then proceeded to arrange the table and its scattered contents.

"That's weird. Was the heavens angry with me too and decided to zap me as a reminder of my place?" Mark chuckled amusingly to himself. He decided to write a story—maybe for the last time. Whether or not he could get it published was out of the question.

Placing the pen on paper, he thought for a long while, reminiscing about his struggles as an up-and-coming writer. Letting out a sigh, he wrote down his first draft:

*After getting rejected by the 30th publisher, Todd thought about how great it would be if he were given an award for the best-rejected writer in the history of mankind. But at that critical low moment, he received a call offering him a position as a consulting editor at one of the great publishing houses, with a salary of ten million dollars. The news greatly thrilled and shocked Todd, as he had already considered entering the labor market as a street hawker since his writing career had failed.*

Reaching this point, Mark smiled sadly and decided he would trash the paper in the morning and go back to becoming a farmer. He then closed the window and retired to bed. A moment later, the paper he had just drafted glowed with a golden light, illuminating the words written on it.