A Blocked Writer

Roaming the space above the keys. The palm spread out and fingers alert. A pulse flickers from her brain to the tip of her pinky and she twitches. Just before it collides, right before a new universe unfolds, it’s gone. Her eyes widen as all that lies on the screen is a resounding “S”. She is completely lost now.

The warm summer sun beams through the window as she presses her forehead against it closing her eyes. She breathes heavily on it then opens them and stares through the fog out at the houses. She can faintly see the reflection of hazel in her eyes as she shifts focus to herself. She remains like that. Her name is Jett. Jett remains like this for close to half an hour.

Her pale skin shines as she switches positions and her over-sized gray shirt changes form. She grips the table and pushes back, teetering her chair on its hind legs. Bored with this after a while she releases it and falls harshly forward. She stares at the screen while puffing the air between her cheeks. Eventually she gives up on even that. Her demeanor shifting forward and her elbow extending on the wood table as she runs her fingers through her long curly chestnut hair. A low grunt escapes her as she looks around the room not specifically looking at anything.

The not so smart phone next to her gains some appeal. Lifting it up and staring at her Facebook feed for five minutes, she is still lost, and now extremely bored. She glides her fingers across the table to her mug filled with coffee. Coffee will save us. I mean we. Me. Her. Coffee will save her. She’s just tired, that’s what’s stopping her from writing this.

Two cups later the air is filled with fragments of smoke. She is staring down at a piece of paper. All she can comprehend is the bold “Eviction Notice” at the top of the page. She stares at it as her bottom lip quivers. Her hair is covering her eyes. The paper slips out of her hand as she relaxes it onto her lap. She tilts her head up and is confronted by the screen once again.