Search This Blog

Sunday, December 27, 2020

Dusty Dreams: A short story


Dust grew in mold-like layers on the closed laptop. Years of neglect rendered the once living machine a mere painful memory of a life that no longer was. William draped his coat unevenly on his person and tossed his bag over one shoulder. He precariously balanced a book, coffee, and day-old donut between one hand and his chin; attempting to close the door with the free hand. Losing his grip on the porch thanks to some fresh morning winter ice, feet scrambling to stay upright, the door slammed much too hard. While he managed to keep his vertical position, the book still in hand, his coffee and donut now lay wasted on the ground beside the steps. He would leave those to the ants in the spring, and replace them on the way to work. 




The lights of the car coming his way swayed back and forth in an uneven jerky pattern. William slowed, assuming deer must be on the road ahead. As the vehicle approached, it swerved into his lane and William found himself staring at four rather large headlights. Blinded, and now driving too slowly to swerve, he braced for the impact. He then remembered an article telling him drunks often survived crashes because they failed to tense, so with all his might, he closed his eyes and tried to relax. 


Vaguely aware of crunching metal and breaking glass, his final conscious thought was; “Well fine, this may as well happen too.” 




Having survived a brush with death, and three weeks in the ICU, now bound to a wheelchair for God know how long, William was face to face with his long lost friend the laptop. Unable to get around very easily, the laptop stared at him from feet away day after day. Finally, unable to resist the call, William gathered himself into the wheelchair and worked his way to the desk.


Top layers of dust came off with the vacuum, but William resorted to a damp cloth to wipe away the remaining years of writer’s block which had become caked on to the surface. As the backlit keys glowed, screen booting to life, a faint memory of being a child on Christmas morning rose within his chest. That feeling, however, was replaced by the cold accusational stare of the Scrivener Icon on the Home Screen. 


Ignoring the icon, he busied himself with catching up on bills, sorting emails, and two hours of YouTube rabbit trails. But the icon continued to call to him, as a soft yet insistent reminder of the dreams he had let fall aside in life’s continual assault. 


Fingers tapping the desk as if a drumroll to a punchline, William hesitantly clicked the icon, revealing a work left behind in another life. Suffocating at the thought of opening that particular Pandora’s box, he opened a blank document. 


It was the best of time- “No,” he mumbled to himself.


It was a dark and sultry- “Seriously William, what are you a high school freshman?”


The purr of an Orange tabby named Tammy was offset by the low rumble of distant traffic… “Well… not bad for years away, I’ll keep it for now…”




The royalty checks were never enough to get a mansion or Mercedes, but after the seventh book became unusually popular, William was able to quit his day job and focus on writing. 


As William sat down to begin his eighth book in the Orange Tabby series, a soft warm light through the window revealed the hint of dust in the air. As long as he kept moving, kept opening the laptop each day, the dust never accumulated.


Eventually, the wheelchair was replaced by physical therapy. But he still used it as his desk chair, quite convenient for rolling to his shelves for research or his kitchen for water. 


The icon no longer accusational, was his daily companion. Then it dawned on him, maybe it was about time to pull up the old project. Reading the opening pages, he was delighted that it was better than he remembered. He decided to read what he’d written for the rest of the day, tomorrow, he would salvage what was usable and start the project with fresh eyes. 



A short story, by DG Wolfe 

Inspired while reading:

The Lost World of Genesis One: Ancient Cosmology and the Origins Debate

By John H. Walton

Chapter One: John Walton


Shalom: Live Long and Prosper!
Darrell Wolfe (DG Wolfe)
Storyteller | Writer | Thinker | Consultant @

Clifton StrengthsFinder: Intellection, Learner, Ideation, Achiever, Input
16Personalities (Myers-Briggs Type): INFJ


Post a Comment

Be Nice, Be Kind, Be Thoughtful, Be Honest, Be Creative...GO!


* indicates required

View previous campaigns.

Powered by MailChimp