Sunday’s dying embers started waning inspite of daylight savings. He switched on his table lamp, mother’s advice ringing in his ears; “don’t work in the dark.”
He sat with a straight back, a stiff neck, rigid arms resting on the keyboard. The laptop remained open, the tiny, bitten apple still alight since seven that morning. Facing him was a white page, the next chapter of his book—the first chapter of his book.
His phone lit up, a notification pushing for attention. His regular coffee shop had a discount: “Midnight orders: 60% off. Jolt your week with a shot of caffeine.”