Alternative writing by Stella Brians
The starving writer earned her keep, the starving writer went to sleep, to have energy for another day in the world of malnourished emotions and creativity.
So tired of working shelves and check out lanes, she used all of her money
to run away.
She filled her jeep with hopes and clothes, hit the gas and quit everyone else’s dream
The drive took her across four states, and away from all of the pain.
Her mother’s words echoed in her memory; Honey, you should never run away.
The young woman in second hand clothes and weather worn hair stepped out into the mountains. She stepped into the heaven only seen in National Geographic magazines.
Hugging her notebooks to her, in her old knit sweater the woman stood before an empty cabin. Tears fell down her cheeks and onto her sweater, and she cried out in joy.
The next words she spoke were, “Thank you, Universe for the solace, the beauty, and guidance.”
She promised herself that she would make her home here, and start her life over at just twenty five.
Beyond the mountains lay a little town, sleeping unawares. The towns people noticed her ’84 Jeep Cherokee chugging down the road they had paved.
She was met with curiosity and awe, from home maker and business man alike.
“We never have visitors, where are you going and where are you from?” Newspaper Joe asked.
“I’m from Chicago, and I’m only going as far as here. The cabin in the mountains, is it for sale?” She looked so beautiful to them, just a child.
“You’ll have to ask the mayor, can I offer you some pie?” asked a stout woman, called Apple Pie Amanda.
“Thank you, I haven’t eaten for miles.” said The Starving Writer.
“So who are you?” asked the mayor, who had no first or last name as far as she could tell.
“I’m a starving writer, and Iv’e run away from that life Iv’e once known. I came here to seek solace and to write. All I need is a roof, food to eat and shoes on my feet.”
“And you want the Zuckerman’s old place? It’s off the grid and very old, my dear girl.”
“Sir, how much can I give you for a new life? I have just a thousand dollars, nothing more.” She plead, clinging to the old sweater that she wrapped around herself.
“Fifty dollars, for the cost of wood and nails that the old place stands on.” He stared at her with a smile that lit the sunshine like a gas fire in her stomach.
That night, she drove her Jeep back up the mountain divide her eyes on the little old shack. Under the dim light of the sunset, she went through the little blue door and stood in the three room cabin. She stood there with her notebooks in one hand, a duffel bag in the other.
“I don’t know how, but I’m going to live my dream and thrive as a starving writer. The mountains must have their own magic, and I want to be part of it.” She said this out loud, as a solemn oath.
To be continued…