The Writer (Revised)

  Michael wanted to become a writer. He knew there were stories within him. Words and thoughts were scrambled in his mind, if he only could transpose them to paper. Michael ran his calloused fingers through his hair. He reached for a cigarette, lit it and typed the word why over again in a futile attempt to write something. "Let it flow, write what you know, write what you would want to read." He thought. Nothing came to him. Michael sighed and turned off his dell. It was getting late and he headed for bed. Michael placed a glass of water on his nightstand and let his jeans fall to the floor next to his bed. He sat there for a moment, wondering why this is so difficult for him. Michael shook his head and slipped under the covers. The stories were there, so what was holding him back? Tired and frustrated Michael drifted off to sleep.

  Michael never slept well, reaching over he turned off his alarm before it could go off. The smell of fresh brewed coffee filled his small apartment. He prepared himself a mug and made his way to the computer. Michael clicked open the browser to read his morning sport pages before heading into work. While the pages loaded he thought, "someday I'll write something great and be able to work in my underwear." "Sure, someday." He mumbled out loud and stared at the monitor. A horn blared outside. His ride to the construction site was here.

  Jeremy, a roughened thirty-something, who enjoyed his beer on the weekends, was holding out a Styrofoam cup.
"Here you go bud." Jeremy said as he handed Michael his coffee.
"Thanks, how was your weekend?" Asked Michael.
"The usual, you know went out drank a few slept till noon and repeat.Hey why don't you ever come out with us?"
"Maybe I will sometime." Michael said as he stared at the fall colors passing him by.

  All morning Michael laid bundles of shingles on the roof and watched the other workers go about their labor, exchanging jokes and bantering. "Why wasn't he content laying shingles? It was a good living, an honest one." It was the same thought he'd had at other jobs and like always, he shrugged it off and went back to work.

  On the way home Michael asked Jeremy, his closest friend which wasn't saying much.
"How are you so content doing what you're doing?"
"What do you mean?" Jeremy asked.
"Don't you want anything better, don't you have any dreams?" Michael said.
"That's the problem, dreams are just that, dreams. Once you accept who you are then you put them away and never think of them again, because dreams don't pay the bills." Jeremy explained.
"Well I guess I haven't accepted that yet."
"When you do life will be a little easier."
"Maybe." Michael said. "Maybe."

  Jeremy pulled his old ford into MIchael's driveway. "See you tomorrow Michael."
He said.
"Yeah I'll catch you later." Michael slammed the rusted door shut and headed upstairs.
"I'm just not ready to put those dreams away." Michael thought.

  Michael threw his shirt on the sofa and made his way to the half empty refrigerator. He opened a beer and decided on a Hungry Man for dinner. His girlfriend Shannon would be over later, he tossed his boxed supper into the microwave and sat to write. "There it is." He thought. That annoying, taunting, blinking vertical line mocking the fact that the page is still blank. " I have something to write." He typed. "I have something to share." Still no beginning, no ending and no story, the words were just not there. The flashing caret still mocking him, Michael moved away from the computer. He took his supper to the sofa and turned on the local news.
"Maybe I'll get an idea here he thought."

  Shannon showed up about six thiry just as Michael was drifting off.
"Staying the night?" Michael asked.
"Oh why not." Shannon said as she gave him a kiss.
"How was your day?" She asked.
Plopping back down on the sofa Michael just grunted as Shannon went about picking up after him.
"You know one of these days I'm going to send you a bill." She joked. She tossed his shirt at him.
"Now put it on and let's go for a drive, I need a coffee."
"Sure, that's not a bad idea." Michael said.
Shannon jumped on his back and he gave her a piggy back ride down to the car.

  Shannon's brown hair framed her gentle face beautifully. Her green eyes were calming and her smile turned heads. Michael knew he would raise a family with her, but not now. He needed to establish himself as a writer first, but he felt time was growing short. They drove out to the coffee shop for a latte. The autumn breeze chased leaves from under the picnic tables, while they watched the sun disappear behind the mountains. Michael looked to her and smiled.

"Do you think dreams at some point should be forgotten about?" He asked.
"Absolutely not. Without dreams what kind of life do you have? You're not giving up on writing?" Shannon asked.
"No it's just a question."
"Well a silly question at that."
"Nothing seems to come to me, thats all. It's all scrambled." He said.
"Keep going it will come trust me it will." She said.
Michael turned away from her. The conversation was the same one he's had with himself over again.
"Let's get out of here and rent a movie or something." He said to her stepping away from the picnic table.

  Shannon drove into the dimly lit parking lot, they went into the video store. Michael quietly stood there as Shannon thumbed through a few titles. She decided on a comedy, something to cheer her boyfriend up. Uninterested, Michael just shrugged and agreed with her choice. On the way back to the apartment, Shannon pried.
"What's with you lately?"
"What are you talking about?" He asked.
"Well you've been moping around, hardly interested in anything."
"I've been trying to write but I can't come up with anything. All I see is a blank screen, I have the words but they're all jumbled."
"Write the words anyway, no matter how jumbled they are. Maybe they'll form into something, a short story or an essay, anything." She replied.
With a heavy sigh, Michael mumbled, "Forget it."

  Shannon pulled the into the driveway. She put the car in park and let the engine idle.
"Why, tell me why I should forget it. You've been miserable lately and it's starting to affect us." Shannon said frustrated as she turned down the radio.
"You know Shannon not everything is about us or you sometimes it's about me. Now can you just leave it alone!" Michael said slightly raising his voice.
"Fine I have to be in work early, I'm going home tonight."
"Whatever." Michael said getting out of the car.
He stood there watching her pull away.

Michael walked into his apartment and kicked off his shoes. He grabbed a beer and sat at his computer. "Type the words anyway, maybe they'll form." He thought to himself. Maybe Shannon was right. He went to the living room and turned on his television. He stood there momentarily thinking about what she had said. Tired, he sat down and laid his head back on the sofa. The blaring of Jeremy's horn woke Michael, jumping up he headed outside. Halfway to the truck Michael realized he woke up at his computer desk.

"You going to work dressed like that?" Jeremy asked.
Michael stood there in bare feet no shirt and the jeans he wore the day before.
"I'm not going in today." Michael told Jeremy.
"Foreman's going to be pissed, are you all right?" He asked.
"Nothing a day off won't cure, I'm just really tired not much sleep last night. That's all." He said.
"Well I'll see you tomorrow then." Jeremy drove away.

  Looking up at his apartment Michael slowly climbed the staircase. He approached his pc and saw the familiar cursor. This time it flashed at the end of a word, at the end of a story. Michael had written his first short story.

  He barely remembered writing it, he was exhausted when Shannon dropped him off. Did he really write this? Michael wondered. He after all did wake up at his computer. The words sounded like him. To be certain Michael scrolled to the top of the page and began reading. "Henry wanted to become a writer.... A smile formed at the corners of his mouth. Michael had finally written his first short story.

  Michael phoned Shannon to apologize for last night and to tell her the good news. She accepted his apology.
"I told you it would come, I cant wait to read it and I'll see you tonight."
Excited Michael hung up the phone and put on some coffee.

  Michael needed to know how others would respond to his writing. He opened his internet browser and Googled the word writing. He looked for sites where he could post his work and get a response. He came across a few, and joined one. The encouragement he recieved at this site revived his dreams. Michael will become a writer.

  Shannon arrived earlier than usual, eager to read his work.
"You got out of work early?" Michael said and gave her a kiss.
"We were slow so it wasn't a problem. Now let's see this story of yours." She said.
Shannon sat on his lap as Michael read his story to her. Finished she smiled and got up.
"I have a surprise for you." She pulled out a bottle of cheap champagne and two plastic cups.
"It's all I can afford, so you better start writing more." She joked.
Michael laughed.
"I guess I'll have to than." He said.
They filled their glasses and toasted to Michaels small victory. The writers block out of the way, stories and ideas began to flow. Michael wrote each one down in a notebook to recall later if he ever stumbles again.