[RiddleRose]: 298.Stories.Writer's Block

It creeps up on you slowly. Your first warning merely a little breath on the back of your neck. Then comes a little tingle somewhere deep inside you. It is a tingle that evokes thoughts of ice cream, summer, laziness, and nothing but play all day. 

Perhaps at this point you might stretch a little in your chair, but you still have the chance to escape! You are not yet lost! But then the breath is stronger on the back of your neck, and you realise that it's the light breeze from outside, because foolishly you left your window open. Even now though, you are not quite gone. You're still interested, still engrossed.

But then, the fatal pounce. Stretching has made you realise how stiff you are, and you rise, for just a brief walk, just to get the knots out. The walk is lovely. Perhaps you call a friend, and you go down to the brook and hunt frogs, catching them only to let them free again after they've croaked a few times. The sun starts to go down, and you remember that you have things to do, homework, a lab report perhaps.

You start back, fully intending to get back to work, back to your notebook and pencil, back to your computer. But no. It is not to be. You realise in a blinding flash that you have been fooled! A great block has formed, apparently from sunshine and little breezes, right in the middle of your seat. You can sit on it, but that only makes the problem worse, for the block becomes enraged, and swells to epic proportions!

By the time it has finished expanding, it has engulfed you completely, and you can't even remember why you came bak inside in the first place. Why would you want to write on a gorgeous day like this? 

Later, at one in the morning, you will ask yourself, 'why oh why did I ever leave my window open??'