(no subject)
He awoke with a start to the sound of construction. Keyboard imprint on his face; he got up and stretched. Another long night of nothing. Of writing nothing, of thinking nothing. Being with no one. Going no where. Being a nobody. Nothing. Enough of it to make a man feel like a nihilist.
He walked to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of the pre-brewed coffee. He let the dog out and whilst gazing at the wreckage being torn down, a thought came to him. a Simple. Single. Thought... to put it so purely. How easy it might be to do a little something and get a lot back. This wasn't like most schemes to get rich or famous or happy or laid or what-have-you. Just an idea. An idea that a man's life can change if he wants it to.
He took that thought and wrote it down, before the bulldozer in his brain leveled it.
Now it could take root. Now things could change.
Guess we'll see.
He walked to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of the pre-brewed coffee. He let the dog out and whilst gazing at the wreckage being torn down, a thought came to him. a Simple. Single. Thought... to put it so purely. How easy it might be to do a little something and get a lot back. This wasn't like most schemes to get rich or famous or happy or laid or what-have-you. Just an idea. An idea that a man's life can change if he wants it to.
He took that thought and wrote it down, before the bulldozer in his brain leveled it.
Now it could take root. Now things could change.
Guess we'll see.