COFFEE MOMENT

COFFEE MOMENT
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&;#8230;I am numb and tired.
My head droops as I start to resign myself to the inevitable fate
before me&;#8230;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&;#8230;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 start to move across the keys, forming words and
sentences.
The way forward is clear.
I shall create a world&;#8230;a NEW WORLD.
Oh the characters and places&;#8230;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.

THE END