The Cursed Cursor

Blinking, taunting, and annoying, my cursor beckons me to write something, anything but nothing. And yet my thoughts shift like whirled champagne in a flute. I wait patiently for inspiration to float down to my fingertips.

Nevertheless, I am here staring, and the cursed cursor is taunting me. This conundrum isn’t writer’s block. I have too many ideas going in different directions. Nouns, adjectives, pronouns, and compound predicates whirling by without a chance of being caught. And why does that stupid thing keep blinking at me?

Time is pressing, and my deadline approaches. I need to write something, but words have betrayed me. Alone I set with my keyboard and desk lamp. Soon the hour will strike, and a blank screen will be my only product from my vocabulary bloating. Yes, I’m sure the Dawn will find me staring contently at my cursed cursor.

One Comment Add yours

  1. If this had been written thirty years ago, it would be about a typewriter and a blank sheet of paper. Then you’d have to mail it to somebody. 😀

    Liked by 2 people

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