Troy...

The empty page on my computer screen mocks me, haunts me, it doesn’t have eyes but stares into mine nonetheless. Fingers hovering over a black keyboard – oh, do I miss those old typewriters; at least the paper wouldn’t stare, lest it be ripped and mauled by frustrated writers.

Sweet coffee had forgotten its own bitter taste; avo-and-cheese sandwiches with a dash of pepper and too much salt; water turned mellow and lukewarm from neglect and jealousy, but I can’t help preferring the sweetened coffee that had turned as lukewarm as the water; they’re keeping me company on a desk that hasn't celebrated the New Year yet…

And when noon arrives, I will face my sorrows head on! Charge it! Rush it! Like amazons, with raised axe, riding chariot; some old forgotten Scythian war cry will strike fear into heartless demons. And I’ll forget that over time and decades, those demons had become my friends…

And I will rebuild the great gate, put stone on stone; hide behind Ilium’s great walls. I will build in my heart yet another Troy, to be burned…