There was again that little voice in her head, the one that often spoke whenever she had the courage to listen; soft, warm and gentle, it whispered words of magic and made her believe in dreams she rarely dared tell. When she chose to listen to its sound, she felt anything could be true, if she wanted it bad enough. She felt she could achieve the highest goal if only she silenced the discouraging hums around her, if only she stopped looking at what was possible for the people who limited themselves thinking that only a few got their wishes granted. “Whatever people tell you,” it whispered, “that only a few succeed, that you’re not them and will not be, that creativity holds no future, that a calling needs luck to be fulfilled and luck you have not, don’t listen. Those few who have succeeded, wouldn’t have reached their mountaintops, had they believed the world.” And she listened to the voice that day; she smiled at the image revealing before her eyes and started typing.