"Why I can't be more like you?" John said to his companion, Dante, or "Dan" as he was called

"What do you mean?" he mentioned

John was there, on his desk, ready to type something new...if he could just think in some new idea to write about, but lately his mind was completely empty and an indication of when it might end this drought of inspiration.

Meanwhile, Dante was toying with a baseball while lying in a bed, staring at the ceiling, carefree with a smile can bright any cloudy day.

"You know what I mean, you seem to have it all ... at least, everything I don't: you're confident and nothing seems to scare you.

"Come one, don't be such a drama queen: it's true, you're not exactly what I would call "star material", but you should not discourage yourself that much"

"Maybe, but ..."

"But what?"

John watched closely at the computer screen, with melancholic eyes, and then proceeded to lower his head slowly and turn his eyes toward the floor.

"Why is so fucking hard to write anything these days?"John said.

"Maybe you have not sleep enough, maybe the lack of nutritious food or the fact that your room is a mess ...

"It was a rhetorical question!"

"Oh, sorry ..."

But Dante had very good points: his life was a mess, without a single sign of inspiration to build something in the realm of fiction, and if you can't handle fiction...well, forget about doing anything in the real world.

"How do you get away from all problems? I mean, you have them, but it seems like you can handle anything" John asked his fellow

"I'm not sure actually...I think you need to answer me that question dude, I do not think I have real control of it."

"Yes, it is true..."

Later that morning, John and Dan went to buy some grocerias at a convenience store on the corner of the street, in part because they needed some actually eatable food, and in part because of her: Roxanne.

What a beautiful name, John often thought, like that The Police song, but without the unfortunate implications of being named after a prostitute.

"Looking for another silly excuse to be near her right?"Dante whispered while John was looking for some pops in the fridges.

"You know the answer Dan, you know it well"

To vary with the perfect profile of an amateur writer, John was unable to even say a words to the woman he loved in secret, which caused a dissonance of personality that Dante could not ignore.

Hold on a second, Shakespeare...don't you write about love and relationships in...I don't know, 99% of the time?" Dan asked John after they were formed in line.


"And you can't even say a single "hello" to a clerk?"


"And don't you think that's something...ironic?"

"Shut up and pass me a bag of these chips..."

John was not in the mood for Dan's comments, he just wanted the instant to be near of that woman with beautiful green eyes, to say how much he loved her, how much he wanted to be the man of her life, the one to adore her until his last sign of life...

...but he couldn't...as always.

"Congratulations, John, you really know how to act like a Casanova"

"Shut up Dan, just ... shut up ..." John told him, a little angry, as they walked back to his apartment.

As soon as they returned, John and Dan noticed a message on the phone.

"It is your mother, Johnny, friend ..." Dan said when he saw the number.

"Not again..."

"Calm down man, just hear the message and that's all"

"No, don't bother...I think...I know what she's gonna say..."

And John had reason to suppose the content of the message: He had lost his job several weeks ago, and he had not achieved anything; yes, he won some money writing a few articles for a poor starving independent newspaper, but that wasn't really enough to please his family, and he had no doubt it: there she was, his mother, once again trying to convince him to take a job in the company of his brother.

"Maybe you should reconsider the offer John, after all, she's just worried and concerned about you..."

It was undoubtedly true, but John knew that that was not what he wanted: A bureaucratic desk job? No, it was not for him: he wanted something more, something that could make him feel free, but with the increasingly difficult situation, sometimes, he wondered how much longer he could continue his stupid pursuit of all those youth dreams.

"At least call her back and tell her you're doing fine"

"I will, after the work..."

John sat back on the desktop and the creative stagnation was resumed right where it was left.

"Hey, well, look what you have here..." Dan said when he saw a bill on a table besides John's bed

"Leave me alone"

"It seems serious" Dan continued to comment after a a little look at the message "do you owe money to the bank?"

"It's nothing, just a few...hundreds of dollars"

"Ugh! Dude, I don'tt envy your life at all"

"But I do yours ... now can you understand? You got it all! A good job, a beautiful girlfriend, you are popular with people, unlike me: no job, no girlfriend, no friends.

"Three strikes, you're out ..."

"My God, Dan, that was awful ... How did you think in such a lame jake?

"I did NOT, remember?" Dante said, smiling "you were the one who created that precious line..."

John then heard the monitor of your computer the sound of a new e-mail message and quickly opened it to read it:

"From: AllieAlliexa

Reply URL: http: fiction press/secure/review

Review Alert: Living with Dan: Chapter XXI

Hi there! I LOVED this week's chapter! It was SO funny! And that line: "Three strikes , you're out" LOL! AWESOME! Dane is great!

Please update the story as soon as you can!


Allie "

A new review about one of his stories, trying to attract people in the jungle of the Internet writing community, a resource of many young authots who are perhaps too timid to show their work to an editor or even someone in their own families, but have no problem sharing it with half the world.

A review, probably the only kind of messages he was receiving these days able to cheer him up briefly, with praise and love...and for a couple of minutes, John was happy: that was more than enough...

"Dan, you've got it all ..." John said warmly, smiling.

John then got up and went to the bathroom, but before leave his room, he realized of the truth: His room was completely empty, like his life, no friends, no family, no job, and talking to someone from his own imagination.

"I wish I were like you Dan...

John will have to face his daily problems, but at least in the writingm he could find a shelter to those difficult moments, and let's face it: to create, to do fiction, any kind of fiction, is a escapism exercise, and John, like many others, sees the world for not of what it is, but for what it could be, and sometimes, for what it should be...

The End

PS: A review never hurt anyone...I'm just saying XD