William’s morning

William’s morning was marked with a great event. He had to visit an important exhibition of modern projects from which he was supposed to distinguish and highlight the most prominent ones, rethink them and deliver completed ideas to the head office.
It was his first big project as an assistant, so William wanted to go all out. However, not a single project caught his attention after one solid hour; nothing but tasteless and unimpressive grotesques was around, and they induced only fear.
Company representatives with the projects were all the same: their main care was to take out their potential rivals.

William, as far as he could, sat away from the stage, where the veiled insults were getting louder, and he was trying to find the fastest way to escape from this place and pondering on what to say to his superiors. Eventually, thoughts about the future report ceased to occupy his mind, and William imagined he was a bird, free from all of these meaningless worries.
He was deepening down into the world of fantasy and, before he knew it, found himself on the seashore surrounded by seagulls, the company of which rewarded his last year’s trip to the sea with friends. He remembered running around all day with a camera in his hands, trying to find the perfect combination of shapes.

Nature, as he once said in his final year at the university, has given us an immense number of images, perfect symmetry and asymmetry.
William couldn’t remember if he had found anything worthy or just had been filling up his film with tons of unnecessary photos that differed only in positions and angles. In his memories, there was only the process of searching, sleepless nights, and hours of sifting out bad shots.
Weirdly though, he hadn’t thought then that in a year he would be visiting a great number of meaningless exhibitions and sorting out hundreds of papers.
Nevertheless, had he told himself about his future fate last year, he would hardly have chosen another path…

Someone’s loud sneeze brought William back to the reality, but only for a moment, and then his stream of thought led him to an even more distant memory in which he was walking down the imaginary catwalk, fooling around like he’s a model, along with his best girlfriend. There were bright colours, unusual looks, and all the parents’ clothes they could reach and use.
Now it seems ridiculous, but that time it seemed that the air itself was permeated with the aroma of freedom.
Right! Freedom! That’s what he couldn’t get out of his head for an hour, that’s what links all of his memories together, and that’s what all the projects at the exhibition lack.
Inspired by the idea, he began turning over pages of his notebook, where he placed his main ideas relating the projects, in order to find a suitable basis, while the only one cry was getting louder and louder in his head: freedom.