Block

All the stars have aligned, they sit here watching you. The flowers in the vase by your computer bloom and smile, the sun clears the cobweb clouds. Your schedule eases, the coffee brews. Everything is prepped for your page to fill with words, to finally arrange itself in a dance neat and passionate all at once, everything is ready. Everything but you.

I sit staring at the blank, white screen, cursor blinking furiously, imaginary clock ticking. Hours pass. A deadline grows on the horizon like a monster, like a lecture about my shortcomings, like a question mark. I try to force what will not be forced. I try to coax, to coddle, I bob and weave and watch excuses attach themselves to my limbs until I can no longer lift them.

He calls to remind you to sit in the emptiness, and your breath slows reflexively. Close your eyes, picture yourself in the hollow space.

A small girl sits next to you. Reminds you that you already know everything you need to say, because you made her. Because in making her, now you owe her the world.

I take another deep breath. Stand up in the hollow. Decide it's time to make my way out.