Charlie was despondent. For over three weeks now he'd sat at his desk staring at the blank white screen of his computer. And yet, he'd thought of everything but the task at hand. He'd filled out his grocery list. He'd planned his television programming for the month. He'd even thought about his upcoming date with Evelyn. But he'd not been able to create one sentence of his novel.
Jack, Charlie's room-mate would laugh each time he passed by in the hall. He'd laugh on his way to his bedroom. He'd laugh on his way to the kitchen. And Charlie was about ready to blow his stack.
And then, on one trip down the hall, Jack stopped in the doorway and said to Charlie "How's the great novel coming?"
"Not so well" replied Charlie, sadly.
"Maybe you need a break. You need to get outside. Hit up a bar for a drink. See a movie. Something." said Jack.
"No" said Charlie. "I have so many thoughts swirling in my head but I just can't transpose any of them to this damn keyboard."
"Well, can I tell you what you should do if you need inspiration?" inquired Jack.
"Oh, yes, please" replied Charlie.
"Well, follow me then" said Jack. And with that he led Charlie out of his study and turned right down the hall. He clicked on the light, walked to the end of the hall and pointed to the closed door.
"What?" said Charlie. "That's the bathroom."
"Indeed" intoned Jack. "It's where I do my best thinking. Haven't you ever sat on the throne for a good half hour working on a decent movement? And in that time haven't you thought of all myriad of things and how to solve them?"
"Um, no" said Charlie. "Never."
"Well, no time like the present" claimed Jack. "Welcome to what I like to think of as the chamber of secrets!"
"Ha" laughed Charlie, "I guess my creativity has been a little constipated lately."
"That's the spirit" chuckled Jack. "There's no telling what kind of crap you'll come up with!"
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