Meh

[keithit]

Muttering under his breath, he scribbled on the piece of parchment. Pushing his beard out of the way, the old man adjusted his glasses and squinted to see his own loopy writing. All around him were balls of paper, discarded as failures. This new creation was a work of months and he found himself quite liking it. The characters were brilliant and he fell in love with the world. It was even better than his own life really, which was easily shown in the way he leaned over the desk, writing even when he felt he would slump over.

Finally, the main character came face to face with the love of his life. He opened his mouth and said . . . the old man frowned. What did he say? Lifting his pen off of the paper, he stared at the words carefully. With a bit of annoyance, he flipped back through the pages and pages he had written. What does he say? With a furrowing of his brow and another sweeping gesture to move his beard again, he read the words leading up to the moment. Nothing fit, it didn’t work. With a growl, he picked up the rolls of parchment and ripped them in two. He thought he had it, he was close. He threw the pieces behind him and breathed heavily for a few moments. He was getting too old to keep starting over. At this rate, he would never get to the end.

With a sigh, he reached for his next roll of paper and started again.