A nameless temptress gives Tim all the inspiration he’s been missing.

I threw my coffee cup into the garbage can. Too bad the cup was only Styrofoam. I would have felt a lot better if it was ceramic and it would have broken with a satisfying crash.

I was sitting at my desk, staring at my computer screen, and I’d had enough of that for one day. I highlighted the entire document — a meager two pages — and deleted it with one keystroke. A part of me longed for the old days when you could rip the page out of the typewriter, wad it into a ball, and throw it into the trash, or better yet onto the floor.

It was much more satisfying when you had an article to write and the words wouldn’t come.

I flipped the desk calendar. Six days. That’s all I had. The magazine... Read More