I’m Writing

Oh. Um. Boy.
I got nothin’ right now.
I’m up, and I’m after it, but I’m empty.
I feel good, but I have nothin’ drawing towards the page.
8:02am.
Hm.
8:03am.
A ball of light.
Explosion.
A dog’s rear end in the night.
Rearend?
Rear-end.
Hyphens.
Hyphens are always trying to find a place in my documents.
Where they don’t belong.
No. I am serious. This is serious writing.
Um.
A dusty window, sunlit, um, pane.
Look at your green triangle roof.
A blow dryer.
Yeah. Nothin’ doin’.
There are brooms, swiffer sweepers, mops that contrapt, buckets to my right.
A blank wall in front of me.
Ooooo.
I’m staring at a blank wall.
A blank space.
I’m writing.
No.
E-mail.
Organize.
Feel accomplished.
Morning noises knocking on the shell of my office.
Nothin’ doin’.
8:10am.
8:16am.
E-mail.
Drinking green tea that says to me, “It’s not life that matters, it’s the courage that we bring to it.”
Sip.
8:17am.
I hear a bird.
I have nine minutes.
I’m done.
I’m a writer.