in the moment

He sat, slouched at his desk, staring vacantly at the blank page on his monitor. The cursor blinked repetitiously, making a mockery of his inability to perform. Overwhelmed, he allowed his body to swivel along with the chair, desperately hoping that a surge of momentum would come from the free-flowing movement. Nothing. The room was dark and still; the unvarying murmur of a space heater combined with the steady hum of the computer placed him in a trance, which he embraced. It took him briefly away from the task at hand, a daunting job for which he had no plan of execution. Twenty-four years and he didn’t know what to write. Where would he begin? All he needed was one sentence, something that would jump-start his creativity. One word, even. But it wouldn’t come, so he sat, swiveling.