This is a try at MELANIE EZELL'S BIG CLOSET ULTIMATE WRITER'S CHALLENGE, the tenth week challenge:

10. Heaven's Gift

idea: Sometimes our prayers are answered in unexpected ways. Write a story in which the character's change is brought about by an act of the deity of your choice.

length: any

This was actually written to be my first post on BC, but since it didn’t turn out to be a real instant change, I had to write something else for the first weekly challenge. So, I tried to fit this short little doodle in somewhere else. Now my friends came over and held a board games night tonight, so I didn't get enough time to work on the week three entry, so here you’ll get this instead. Expect my week three issue to be released when this should have been released.

Well it wasn't exactly a prayer, and whether there's a deity or not involved, the story really doesn't tell.

Daniel’s story

― …and for your final credits for this course, next week’s exam will be given to you as you turn in your last writing assignment. The topic for this assignment is “How my daily life would look, were I of the opposite sex”. You will only be able to take the exam after turning in this assignment, so be sure to give yourself enough time to complete it in time.

That was, of course, last Friday. Looking at the clock, I see the numbers just change to 22:36, and in roughly ten hours and some change, I have to turn in this assignment so that I can take the exam. I look at the three short sentences I’ve written and sigh. I really need these credits, but inside my mind is a roaring black hole, ripping substance and any illumination from the few ideas that I have managed to get on the topic. In my mind’s eye I look as the last remnants of my muse get caught beyond the event horizon and inevitably dragged in to merge with all my chances to get the credits I need to be able to go to college.

― How I wish I knew just what to write to finish this essay and nail tomorrow’s exam!

Frustrated, the words coming from my mouth with little thought, addressed to this painful universe in general. I threw my hands away from the keyboard in disgust. Had I any idea of the consequences of it, maybe I would make a different wish, but how could I know there actually were someone, or something, out there listening?

With a mounting headache I get up and walk to the bathroom, finding a paracetamol pill, not one of more well known brands but a cheap generica is good enough for me, and down it with a glass of water.

Twenty minutes later, sitting in my desk chair again, I look at the screen as a blurry image of a popular actress and singer starts to emit beautiful ballad lyrics, replacing the noisy all-percussion orchestra that was previously all too loudly drumming at the inside of my skull. The start of a hazy idea begins to flow from my less-than-fully-conscious mind to my fingers as I listen to the private concert of an eighties rock ballad playing inside my mind’s ears.

At the chime from the grandfather clock down in the dining room I look up at my finished essay, close to the upper limit in pages she wanted, and suddenly I get hit by the madness of it. Here I’m sitting, with a long story of a regular day in my regular life and in my regular sex, at midnight the day before I need to have it turned in or flunk a course I absolutely need to get to college. Need to sleep creeping up on me, I get up and go to bed. I just need to turn in the assignment to be able to write the exam, she didn’t say anything about whether it needs to actually cover the subject. Exhausted I get to bed and turn off the lights.

* * *

Waking up on Friday morning, I narrowly manage to get ready in time despite my having set the alarm to half an hour earlier than usual. I arrive at the examination hall just in time to turn in my essay and in turn they hand me the exam and lead me to my designated seat. After much less than the two hours assigned for this test, I put my pen down, looking in wonder at my finished exam paper. So easy?

― Just let me mark your attendance off in the list and you’re free to go. Have a nice day, miss! the invigilator says with a smile I’m not used to seeing on persons of their profession.

I look down at my dress and smile back. Maybe it will be a nice day after all!

Comments of any form welcome. Particularly, don't hold back on language and editing issues. I want to be told about it!