Waiting On Inspiration

January 16, 2024

Photo by: cottonbro studio

‘The porous fabric of the night allowed the mist to flow freely all the while preventing sight from occurring more than a few inches away.’

“Blah, blah, blah,” he uttered in contempt. “Word filler.”

Kieran ripped the piece of paper from the typewriter, balled it up and heaved a mighty shot towards the basket. It bounced off the rim before setting through the hoop. “Ooh, a two pointer,” he exclaimed.

And so it went all night. He would type some words, look at it with disgust, rip the paper out, toss it at the garbage can and then start over. After a while all he had for his efforts was word exhaustion. The idea was there. He just couldn’t get it right. 

After 5 hours he put his head down on the desk in front of the typewriter. The coolness of the desk had begun to soothe his skull when he picked up another piece of paper and put it into the typewriter.

‘The darkened mist floated aimlessly, blocking the view of the oncoming traffic.’

Kieran smiled. “Now that was something I can work with. It needs more work but it is closer to what I want,” he reflected as ideas dripped from the mist onto the page.