The Adventures of The Starving Writer
By Stella Brians
Under an overcast sky, she bathed in a nearby stream. The mountains watched her as she ran freezing cold into the house to escape to the warm confines of a sweater. For the past week, the young woman had been waking up at dawn to bathe, and to use the day’s natural light for writing.
She had left home with a typewriter, thank the gods it didn’t use electricity.
Upstairs, she had discovered the hidden loft where she now slept, and through the captain’s window she met with the eyes of the blue mountains.
“Loneliness hasn’t met me yet.” she whispered, in the dark of dawn.
Pressing her fingertips to the glass window was the closest she could get to touching the mountains. Out in the wild earth, the writing came more easily than when she lived in the sludge filled city of emotional asbestos.
All wasn’t work, sometimes she played the guitar.
Some of the songs she played were to remember her father. California Dreamin’ by the Mamas and the Papas were an echo in time, and now they reverberated through the silence of the mountains.
When the weather was too cold, and the night dark and full of stars she counted them and tried to give each of them a story.
This helped her to beat the loneliness before it took her, and instead was met with sleep.
The mountains and Montana air that was somehow nostalgic kept the fire burning inside her. Her novel had a name now.
Her heart called to that of another, and joy filled her soul that had never been there before.
The winds brought a flyer up from the little town of Crater, and delivered it to her door step completely missing the invisible mailbox.
Come, it said in a typewriter font that made her heart flutter
Come to Crater Public Library’s First Indie Author Fair.
Beneath was the drawing of a type writer with unicorns, centaurs, and knights trying to climb out of it.
The date read September 10th, 1997. So, it was tomorrow, she thought to herself.
I won’t miss it for the world.