Kickstarter

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. A jolt of caffeine to kickstart your week.”

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