Across the Street
Neil tapped his pencil with growing aggression. It had been three months since he had written anything worth mention, and he was growing incredibly irksome.
The cursor on the laptop screen blinked against a blank white surface of a hopeless attempt at creativity. Neil tossed the pencil (a useless tool when one does their writing on a computer) into his messenger bag and folded the screen of the laptop down with an overly dramatic sigh. He looked over beside the overstuffed green armchair at the now cold cup of red tea that he had abandoned while he had attempted to write again.
He also hadn’t realized that the music had suddenly become much louder and he bobbed his head without even realizing he was doing so.