Blank page

I hate blank pages. They exist just to torment a writer. They scream out: “Fill me! Fill me!”, while simultaneously mocking: “Nyah nyah- you can’t think of anything to write.”
Wouldn’t it be easier to go back to the days when teachers assigned us something to write? Of course that has it’s drawbacks as well. What if we don’t like the topic? Aside from creative writing teachers, most of what we’re required to write in school is dry material. Now don’t shoot me, figuratively or literally. It’s just my personal opinion. Personal notes aside, we’re still left with the dreaded blank page.
Advice articles suggest continuing onto a page so you aren’t starting out blank. That only works if you’ve already started something. What happens if you’re at the dreaded beginning? Or working on a writing exercise. One that isn’t preplanned?
How about just writing down whatever is going through your head? You can always delete it later. Although “experts” say not to delete anything you write, since you might find a home for it later. If it has nothing to do with what your working on, then go ahead. No reader is going to be interested in the contents of your sock drawer when they want to know what’s happening in y0our story.
Just getting something down will jump start your mind and get your creative juices running. Plus the page will no longer be blank, so the fear is erased. Well temporarily conquered.

Ants go Marching

Millions of feet had followed the trail before him. Pounded their scent across this path. There was no way he could get lost. None. So why was he so afraid? There were no giant feet ready to step out and squash him. The wind was down. A looming leaf wasn’t about to come soaring from the heavens to drag him off the trail. Still, something felt off.
His antennae flickered. His body quivered. There was something wrong with this trail. But there was nothing he could see!
“Get a move on!” One of his thousand brothers shoved from behind.
“Yeah, c’mon. We’ve got work to do.”
He put one foot forward.
And slid it back.
He put another foot forward, and slid it back.
“Enough blocking the path!” Came a shout behind him.
“I can’t, I just can’t.” He mumbled under his breath.
“Just go around him already!”
One brave brother set out feelers and walked calmly around him, before stepping back on the path. One by one, all one thousand of his brother’s stepped around him, following the minor detour.
Detour? He was the problem with the path!