Had a hard time concentrating today. I decided to turn that into writing about a way I will sometimes try to fight writer’s block and how weird it is. I managed to write something which feels like a victory.
Inspiration by Jeremiah McCoy
“Why are we here?” Kelly asked with an air of exasperation. Even her mask looked disdainful.
The old, pockmarked floor looked like a glazed over a gravel pit. The old concrete arches framed a dirty glass door covered in posters.
“I am looking for inspiration, that creative spark!” Nathanial said eagerly. He was never Nate, or Nathan, always Nathanial which told you much about him if you understood that. Even his mask was monogrammed.
“In a bus station? Is this even safe?” Kelly said looking around the mostly abandoned waiting room. A few stragglers were to be found. A group of plain dressed Mennonites stood talking with some locals near the busses outside. All were wearing masks and for a moment Kelly wondered what things the two groups had in common.
“Sure! Get out among the people,“ Nathanial began enthusiastically. He was already breaking out his latest notebook and sat down on a molded fiberglass bench. His stylish pen was in hand, and he looked so incredibly happy to be there.
“You can pick up so much…” he continued but was interrupted by the drunk frat boy who stumbled out of the bathroom. The large fellow wore a t-shirt with the has the words “Everything is bigger in Texas” and a bright red ball cap turned around. He drunkenly stumbled leaning against a bank of lockers. ”…reality?”
The inebriated giant stood looking like he was beginning to sober. He turned to smile at Kelly pleasantly. He then fell face first. An explosion of vomit came out as he belly-flopped. It splashed against Kelly’s feet.
“I hate you.” She declared with a sigh.
“That’s fair,” Nathanial said as he stood and joined her in stepping away from the pile of unconscious drunk. A masked security guard stepped over shooing them further back.
“Can we get inspired somewhere else now?” Kelly asked as she watched the security guard try to roll the drunk man over.
“I suppose.” Sounding even more discouraged. They walked back out. Kelly felt sorry for Nathanial. He had writer’s block most of the pandemic. He got enthusiastic about trying a change of location to help him get past that block.
“Can we stop at the coffee shop on the way home?” Nathanial asked as he climbed into the station wagon. The coffee shop had been his usual writing retreat. He would sit there for hours. He blamed its closure for his writer’s block.
“No!” Kelly said emphatically. She was already irritated about how the day had gone so far. Besides, the shop wasn’t open for people to hang out. Nathanial looked defeated. It was amazing how well she could read him even behind a mask.
“Well, maybe we can do the drive-thru.” She said as they pulled out of the parking lot.