Riding The Writer's Block

I stared at the blank Microsoft Word page for eternity. ”Oh, dash it all.” I thought. I sighed and slammed the laptop shut. This was pointless. I got up and went to the dining room, stirring my iced coffee. The depressing thoughts lingered. I hadn’t read a book in ages! What was I doing trying to write? Suddenly, something caught my eye. I saw an elderly man pedaling by and suddenly, adrenaline filled the air. I needed to do something, I had to get out of here.

I tossed by medium length brown hair behind my shoulder and darted to the garage. There it was! My electric bike. Well, honestly, it is my Mom’s electric bike but she never rides it. I ride it for her. I got on the bike and pulled it out into the driveway, revealing a cool, crisp morning. I checked my watch. 6:45 am.Perfect.I thought. I adjusted my sports skirt, put my pink helmet on and biked towards the road...

A few minutes later, I ended up on the pavement of a Wendy’s. I locked my bike up and went towards the door. I stopped and smiled. There was something about the logo of a red headed lady with freckles that always made me light up. I went to the register, let a nice lady greet me and ordered a strawberry frosty.

I sat down at a booth in the empty dining room and pulled out my Moleskine notebook. I looked around the room and although it was 7am, I began to visualize something that happened in my childhood. I opened my notebook and began to write furiously...

“Hey Aleah,” my Grandma said. I looked up from my taco at Taco Bell.

“What is it, Grandma?” I asked

She discreetly pointed over to a man who was looked scraggly and homeless.

“Stay away from him.” she whispered intensively.

I nodded. My gaze glancing over every once in a while.

Today, I know my Grandma was protecting me as a child but I’ll never forget what I saw next.

Suddenly, a woman in shorts walked up and asked the homeless man, “Can I help you?”

The man shook his head.

She ordered him a taco.

“Do you have any shoes?” she asked

He shook his head, ashamed of his bare feet.

The woman proceeded to take off her shoes and give them to the homeless man. After that, they left.

I dotted a period with my gel pen and hurriedly ate my now melted frosty. I raced out the door and got on the electric bike and headed home. Once I reached home, I ran to my laptop and tapped it on. I waited for an eerie glow to fill the room. I typed in my code and there it was, my empty Microsoft Word page.

Once when I was a child, I went to Taco Bell...

I looked around my room with my overflowing clothes and shoes. My childhood memory was making me aware of my surroundings. I opened a tab on my browser. I typed up “volunteer at a homeless shelter.” I was tired of making everything about me, me, me.

I smiled. Finally, I could write.