He sat staring at his monitor, a universe of fantasy playing in his mind. Yet, his fingers hovered frozen over the keyboard.
Why couldn’t he unlock the treasure he knew was there?
The conditions were perfect. The television had been off for hours. The soft thump of quiet storm hip-hop caressed his ears, pulling him ever closer to the mind-state he desired. The warmth and flavor of a recent swallow of whiskey sat at the back of his tongue. The ambient hum of his children snoring filled the air behind him, like the snowy static of a long forgotten television.
His fingers began to dance over the letters. Slowly at first. Picking up speed as the trickle of ideas coalesced into a flood.
The corners of his mouth turned upward into a smile.
He was no longer in control.
He sat back and let the words flow…