By
Simon Murphy



I sit and stare with unblinking eyes; my mind is a vacuum.
The black hole of nothingness has sucked all ideas from my head.
The story was to be so full of promise, vibrant with excitement and passion.
I now stare at the glowing screen infested with a few scattered words that make no sense…I am numb and tired.
My head droops as I start to resign myself to the inevitable fate before me…the dreaded writer’s block has finally taken hold.
His sapping fingers have probed my brain and left me empty.
Turning slowly I feebly take hold of the Grail of eternal life; its holy words of ‘Authors do it in various styles’ inscribed on its ceramic side give little comfort as I sip the warm, brown liquid.
Could this be the end?
I close my eyes as the elixir of writers starts its journey through my sagging, withered form.
No more stories tonight?
No more stories…ever?
The thought stirs an emotion and a single tear flows down my sallow cheek.
The singular droplet falls in slow motion as I watch fascinated by its beauty as the light cascades from its glistening surface.
I’m captivated as gravity pulls it away from me and towards its final destination on my keyboard.
I watch in horror as the planet of water hits the grey plastic, its spherical form now destroyed.
The scene I have witnessed jolts me back from the brink of oblivion and I smile.
I will not give in.
Mr W. Block is not going to take away my thoughts.
I will prevail!
I have to!
My smile is broad as my neurons fire.
My fingers begin to dance across the keys, forming words and sentences.
The way forward is clear.
I shall create a world…a NEW WORLD.
Oh the characters and places…I can see it all with remarkable clarity.
I bring life to those blank pages.
The story burgeons as my fingers tap the keys like a master pianist.
The music of fiction.
The story is written.
The story is good.
I feel good.
Time for another coffee I think.

COPYRIGHT SIMON MURPHY 2003

 

Updated 11th March 2012