by Eric J. Krause
He sat staring at his computer, not sure what to type. The word processing program laughed at him, taunting him to try writing something, anything. His fingers chose not to obey.
"C'mon, Jerry, think. If you can't get this done, how are you going to accomplish anything?"
His pep-talk didn't work. The blinking cursor made him realize how hopeless he really was. Maybe his wife was right to leave him. Maybe his friends were wise in giving up on him. Maybe the world would be a better place if he just guzzled dozens of pills, jumped off a high building, or picked up a wicked razor.
Tears gurgled up out of his eyes, and he didn't bother blinking them back. The warm tracks they left down his cheeks didn't make him feel better, but they snapped something awake in his brain. His right index finger pushed the "m" key.
Could he work with that? Another minute passed. No inspiration. The first sob erupted from deep within as he moved his hand to hit the backspace button.
But wait. With a clumsy slip, he hit the "i" key, and everything stopped. He couldn't breathe. Yes, this would do. Though the sobs didn't subside, at least now they were pouring out in happiness.
"Milk, eggs, butter, bread."
He smiled, maneuvered the mouse to the print button, and stood up to get his shoes.