Writer Block

It had been burning him for ages it seemed, for the past week he had done nothing but it and ponder, go for walk and put off working. He had signed a contract and now loafed around, doing nothing.
He looked over at the computer, black as the screen was, if the mouse  moved than a back ground of an Elephant would stare back at him. Reproachful and magnificent, its trunk curled around a box with "Langdarf, locked" written below it. It had been the birthing place in the book that had gotten him the contract in the first place. He had bought the PC with money from it and hoped that though it he would be able to funnel the myriad of stories and lore that surrounded his mythical land, but nothing came.

He stared for another moment and then looked back out though the window to the backyard. Mowed and well kept, no a tree, bush or building marked it back to the tree line more than 100 yards back. He had hoped one day to put in a pool and have his friends come over but he had few of those as he did. Working on the manuscript as diligently as he had, his socializing ventures, BBQ's, Pub nights, Hiking adventures, had been postponed and he had not talked to them in over six months. His mind was still staggered by that.

Having almost daily working as an assistant manager, and then spending nights with his friends eating and drinking with his friends, he had taken a month off work for vacation time and sat down to write his book. His savings had been saved up, he was almost a year ahead on the house payments and his retirement had been well underway. So he had worked.

Well not worked as the case may be, The first week had been like this one. Sitting in front of his computer waiting for inspiration to hit, the few outlines he had tried turned sour quickly and his previous short stories were mind achingly dull when he had tried to read them. Making an exercise of rewriting them had crossed his mind, but his attempts had only muddied his already terrible work.

It was the next Monday when the inspiration had struck. After trying the first few days and failing, he had started cleaning out the attic, sorting boxes and boxes of old toys, trinkets, plastic awards for cross country and soccer when he cam across a box he had not see in years.

It was his grandmothers jewelry box. At least on his mothers side, his fathers family had never spoken to them, something to do with dishonoring the family and had disowned him. But the ones on his mothers side had loved them all to make up for it, They had one daughter and when he had arrived between his Older brother and younger sister, they had ogled and cuddled him as much as the others.

It took him back to the Sunday when he had seen the box, they had gone back home from church and had stopped at "Grand Parents House" ,as they had called it, and he had wondered into their room out of curiosity. It held their bed, wall to wall closet, and on the opposite side, the dresser with top mirror.

On top of the dresser had been the Jewelry box. It was all silver and gems that twinkled and refracted across the ceiling as a tree swayed in the slight breeze outside. It had been mesmerizing and he had stared at it for a long time before his mother had come and gotten him.

In the following years up to her death, he had asked about it and she had related how his grandfather had bought it for her during their 20th anniversary, she kept all her treasures in it. The box was 7inches wide and half as high and deep. The lid opened to depression where she had kept her earnings, and the two drawers on the front where she had kept her necklaces and his grandfathers cuff links so he did not lose them as he had been apt to lose everything, keys, wallet, cards, shoes, socks and all manner of things he had lost but he always quipped that he heart had always been hers to keep so he never lost it. Along with his cuff links.


They had been gone for more than 10 years, after a car accident with a deer had killed them. After the funeral, and an over dramatic reading of their will which had told them that they wish their family the best and hoped that they would live long and prosper, they had sorted though the house, selling everything they didn't want or couldn't use. The box had not turned up during the search though. Both his mother and sister had looked for it along with him and the friends they had come along to help (With the cleansing as they called it) but it was not found.

After those 10 long years he had found it in his attic, in boxes of old dishes that had come from their house, He guessed that someone had though it was some sort of cream and sugar holder but when he had opened it it found out that it had been cleaned of jewelry, To large to pocket, someone had taken the jewelry and left the box.

He had almost cried then and their, in the front room where the table was strewn with boxes from the attic being resorted or boxes and relabeled. He had sat down and heard something shift in the box. Curiosity over rode his depression and he tilted it again, nothing. Tilt the other way, shift and a 'tock' sound as something hit the other side of the box. He opened the lid again and tilted. Empty as it was, he saw the little depressions where the box was divided in to partition move as the 'tock' came again.

Lifting the worn and faded red insert, a small photo had been secreted below. Lifting it presented him with a challenge as his fingernails were to short and its edge seemed to be glued to the bottom. After failing to pick it up several times, he took a knife from the box and flipped it up so he could grab it.

The picture was of his grandmother and father on either side of a baby elephant, its trunk holding his grandmothers hand. Written on it was "Best time with Cremona" and the date beside it.

He had stared at it, not knowing who Cremona was or knowing who had taken the photo, but reading the word had somehow opened a flood game in his mind and seeing his Grandparents smiling faces had reminded him of the stories that his grandfather told him and his brother and sister when they had slept over at their house and wanted to hear his voice.

He had walked over to the computer, and started working on his book, with his grandparents in his thoughts and his grandfathers stories in his head and told them though his eyes.