PhoebeJaneWrites

There was something about working at the coffee shop that set her mind into a more focused mode. Although, she did not really understand it. She had set up a designated work space at her home. However, there was something about sitting at a table in a dimly lit shop with the scents of coffee and miscellaneous jazz pumped through the speakers that had her working for hours at end. The jazz music did not particularly make sees considering she usually wore headphones when she worked on her writing. 
So there she sat once again staring at that cursed cursor which insanely blinked on in the white back ground. On this particular day there was no inspiration, no words, no story. Nothing came to her as she willed the words to our from her soul and into the keys. Her friends sent her writing prompts hoping that they would in some way inspire her. Yet, the prompts did nothing but taunt at the block that weighed heavy on her chest. Why couldn’t she for the life of her just write some thing. Anything.
There were times when she use to write for days. Carried on my the wind of a muse who would whisper short stories of rock stars and the pale immortals. Now she called to theses very muses but her screams fell on deaf ears. The muses had abandoned her. She strained with all her might to her some type of whispered word, some guidance, anything that would remind her of why she forced herself to write. Was this not her passion? Did she not swear that no matter what career path what job she had to work during the day, no matter what she had to do to pay the rent, it would all be with an end goal to eventually fund the work of her soul?
She knew that her heart was not in her other work. The work she spent her days focused on did nothing more for her than provide a steady stream of income. Yet, at the end of a draining day there was nothing left for her heart. 
That was the truth. Or rather, the semi-truth. There was so much going on in her mind that it was very difficult to shut everything down and to focus on the voices that once poured story after story.

***********

The group of guys laughed and talked as the sucked on their electronic cigarettes. They were barely old enough to drink and so standing outside Starbucks smoking in the rain made them feel a lot more grown up than they were. It was because of the smoke that billowed around them that they did not see the figure hovering around them. When one of them opened the door she followed quickly behind, an unusual creature that flickered. She was not meant to be in this realm and it grew increasingly difficult for her to hold her form. It was then that she saw the girl she came to see, staring furiously at her computer screen sipping at her coffee. The woman made her way to the empty chair across from the writer and settled herself in.

I looked up to see her staring at me. There was the initial irritant at realizing that someone was so rude that they invited themselves to take a seat at my table. Then the shock that followed as I realized that she was actually not a person. Something about the way she looked almost as if she was there and not there at the same time.

“I don’t have much time to tell you why I am here. You will have your chance to ask the millions of questions that are running through your mind. First, I need to you to do me a favor. I know you’re wondering at my audacity, a stranger insisting that you do her a favor with little to no explanation. However, as I had said, there will be a time for explanations. 

You have two choices. You can ignore my request and you will never hear from me again. Or you can go find my box and let me out. Only then will you have your answers and I guarantee the greatest story of your career. ”

With that she vanished.

What box?

At that moment, my coffee cup knocked over. I grabbed the stack of napkins and moved my macbook. It was then that i noticed one of the napkins stayed dry. While the other sheets absorbed large drops of coffee, this one had words slowly appearing. 
An address.
I looked at the blinking cursor on my screen.
This might the completely crazy. A stress induced episode. But why not? I packed up my laptop and grabbed my car keys. The address was local, it shouldn’t take me long to get there even in this weather.