Writer's Block

He was sitting in his study in front of a blank electronic page. It was his special area for writing, where he had plenty of inspiration. There was nobody there to bother him or interrupt. He had special software and a keyboard that made typing more intuitive. And yet, the page remained empty.

He searched his mid for images of love. Of a girl he once knew and whose affection was long lost, never to be regained. Her hair was so beautiful, like pure gold. Or was it dark as the night sky? Was she smiling, or sad?

He opened a drawer, looking for inspiration there, but he could not find anything worthwhile. The pencils were pretty good, all the types you need to draw beautiful pictures. Sadly, he gave up drawing. As he did flying lessons, and all that was left was a button with wings that his wife got him as an encouragement.

”Hello, what’s this?” he said, as he noticed an ancient-looking wooden box, no bigger than a checkbook. It was weathered and scratched all over. There were ungodly images carved into its surface. Demons. Pentagrams. 666.

He looked for a lock, but there was none. As he did, his fingers slid all over the surface of the box as if they knew the way, until something inside clicked and the box opened.

It was empty.

A demon from hell was supposed to come and torture the person who opened the box. That was the ancient contract. But the demon was having a bad day, no motivation to do evil deeds. He felt burned out.

Posted by: Paweł Kowaluk