The Little Black Line

The little black line teased me, blinking, blinking. It was like someone sticking

their tongue out at me. I could almost hear "nah nah nah nah nah nah."

If only I could concentrate hard enough, maybe the words would magically

appear on the screen. I get close and open my eyes wide. I'm sure I look ridiculous, but

I'm determined to show the screen whose boss. Well, I showed it. Now my eyes hurt,

and the screen is still blank.

When my eyesight returns I search the keyboard looking for the right buttons to

push. Unfortunately, there is no creativity button. There is no one key I can touch that

will fill my screen with words. "Arghh."

Writer's block is too nice a term; it doesn't convey the real pain and frustration.

They should call it "seconds from punching the screen syndrome." Or the, "I'm ready to

rip the keyboard out disorder." Unable to take the brightness of the empty screen, I pull

up files of work I've yet to finish.

There must be over twenty stories waiting for an ending. Some I read and leave

unfinished. Others I open and close immediately. Those are three or four paragraph

stories that need more work then I can manage. A few I read and smile, remembering

what it was like when I was actually able to write. I exit the final story and return to my

arch enemy the blinking cursor. Now the chant is, "tick tock, tick tock." Every second

the screen remains blank the line seems to get bigger.

"Damn it." I know the words are inside my head.

"Words get out here this minute. Fingers are ready to type; she's just waiting on you."

If only I could open my head, reach inside and pull out the words. I look down at

my hands there are no words, just hair. Between the stress and my own hands, I'll be

bald in no time.

Come on. There's a story of a lovely lady who was bringing up three very

lovely girls. Nooooo the Brady Bunch song is now stuck in my head. For the next

minute I sit with my hands over my ears and my eyes shut tight, fighting to keep the

Brady Bunch song from going into verse two.

After my timeout, I was ready to try again. I was determined to write something.

I pulled my chair up to the desk, put my hands on the keyboard, and began to type.

Once upon a time in a land far far away a princess was trapped in a dungeon. The

mean men that held her captive said they would let her go if she could write a story that

would entertain them. She sat down with her pen and paper and began to write. She

wrote and wrote, yet the paper stayed bare. She would write a word, and then it would run off

the paper. Every word left, laughing as it ran away. When the men came back to check

on the story, they were very angry.

"What's the meaning of this, why is the paper bare?"

"I tried to write a story, but the words would not stay on the paper. I would write

and they would run." The men thought she was making a fool of them, and had grown

tired of the princess and her stories. So, one of the men took out his sword and cut off

her head.

The end.

Well, that was an hour well spent. I finally have time to write, and only come up

with a two paragraph second rate fairy tale. That's it; I'm throwing in the towel. I

need a break. If I get away from the computer and this screen, maybe the words will

come back to me. In any case I won't sit here being tormented and taunted by the tag

team duo, Mr. White Screen and Mr. Blinking Line.

I push the big black button and the screen fades to black. "Bye Bye blinky." I

smile at the dark screen, but I know it's only a temporary reprieve. They are still there,

waiting in the darkness.

Oh well, there is always pen and paper.