Writer's Block

"I can't believe I have writer's block again" I hear myself say for the tenth time tonight. "I bet Poe never had these problems..."1

I look at my hands as they rest on the keyboard; fingers sitting in the ready position like sprinters at the starting line. All they need is the gun to go off, and they will fly like eagles divebombing their prey. But tonight there will be no rabbit to kill, no gold medals won. For tonight, I have writer's block. No, I have worse than that; sentences to untold stories swarm like killer bees trapped in my skull, but there is no way out. No way to string them together into a story that makes any sense. I want to write of love, war, passion, lust, hunger, blood, sacrifice...it tumbles in my addled brain and the blank page taunts me with its purity. 2

My eyes grow heavy as I stare at the screen. I look to the clock beside me and am shocked to realize it is not late evening but early morning. I try to lift my hand to rub my weary eyes, but I cannot move it. 3

"I am just tired; my mind is playing tricks on me" I rationalize as I try to move it again. My fingers seem glued to their places on the keys. "What is this?"4

My fingers start to move on their own accord. Not sure what to think, I read what they have typed...5

I AM MIPKEL6

"Okay, I must be dreaming."7

THIS IS NOT A DREAM I AM MIPKEL YOU MUST WRITE MY STORY8

I stare in bewilderment; how is my computer talking to me? I must be losing my mind....9

YOU MUST WRITE MY STORY OR DIE10

"Oh yeah," I say in the cockiest voice I can muster, "how will you kill me?"11

YOU WILL NOT LEAVE UNTIL YOU WRITE MY STORY12

"I can leave whenever I want!" I try to get up, but not only are my fingers stuck to the keyboard, but something I cannot see is holding me to my chair. My blood runs cold as I realize the honesty of the unknown threat. 13

"Fine, if that's the way you want it, I'll write your stupid story Mipkel" I begin to type: There once was a young man named Mipkel...14

After a couple of hours of writing, my screen goes blank. My fingers once again move involuntarily.15

NOT MY STORY16

"What do you mean not your story?! I am doing the best I can with no help from you I might add!" I scream in angered panic.17

NOT MY STORY18

I try again with another story and another, each time my work is swept away and the same damn phrase appears over and over again.19

NOT MY STORY.....20

I am woken by the sunlight streaming in the window. I shake my head in weariness and see the computer screen is blank; just as it was all night long. 21

"Ha ha" I chuckle. "What a weird dream...maybe I can write a story about it." I am about to type, but then think better of it. "First, I am going to bed to get some real sleep."22

I try to stand up, but I can't move. My fingers are stuck....23

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