e sat on one of those steps with a notepad and pen in hand. He had a plot and he was waiting for the characters to come alive in his thoughts and help him give life with the touch of nib on the plain paper. But that morning, those characters seemed to be unmindful of his existence.
The sun was getting mellower and he could see the crescent moon peering midst of the clouds. But his dear characters ignored him thereby accelerating his restlessness.
May be tomorrow, he thought as he walked back to his home. The eyes of his wife and daughters looked at him hungrily; hungry for a story.
He shrugged and walked past them.
At night, he suddenly he got up from sleep and switched on the lights. He started scribbling and his characters started coming alive. They were bustling with energy and a smile never left his face.
He was too engrossed in his fantasy world that he failed to notice those three pairs of hungry eyes. The night was silent except for the sounds of romance between the pen and paper and their rhythmic breathing.
But they didn’t utter a word. They sat beside him patiently, waiting for him to complete. After all, only the climax of the fiction was pending and they knew from his smile that he had come up with an interesting narrative.
Later, he hugged the three women he loved the most in his life and told them that he is through with the worst phase – Writer’s Block!