Read The Writer :: The Writer

I always check the numbers. I didn't want to end up knocking on someone else's apartment. The neighbors around here weren't always so pleasant. I knocked heavily on the door. The old man didn't always hear very well. I heard shuffling of feet as I put my ear to the door. I quickly pulled back as the door opened. Before me was the man I always trusted for advice. People thought that this poor man was strange for never getting married. That's not how everyone wants to live. "Ignore what others say, just keep focus on what makes you happy or what will. Whatever stubbornness that takes, you must work towards a life you can be proud of." This was one of his sayings that had such an impact on me.

"Hello Xavier!" The elderly man said with such joy. He was so happy to see me and that warmed my heart. I haven't had the time to come visit with my work schedule. "Hello! How are you Mr. Barnes?" The old man frowned. "Just call me James. I don't need those formalities. I am not royalty, you know?" He motioned for me to come inside. His little home always filled me with comfort. It was much nicer than mine with the decor but still modest. He didn't have a whole lot of money, but he knew how to keep a place nice. "So, what brings you here to see me today, young man? Are you excited for tomorrow?" I smiled. Although it was a twitchy, nervous smile, it was still a smile. Noticing my expression, he said. "Nervous, huh? Don't be, you can do this! You're the stubborn type. You won't give in easily." His words soothed me. Just to be reminded that I am the type of person to keep working for my dream. I eased into the couch and it's springs rubbed against my backside painfully.

He really needed a new one. One thing about this new position is that they have an amazing salary for those that get the job. I could really live a comfortable life. The first thing I will do when I become a part of that association is get him a new couch. A plush one with a beautiful woven design on it. Or maybe something regal. The old man would probably want the comfortable option. He is getting up there and in old age you want to be comfortable. That's it. Not if, but when. I just need to keep believing in myself and I will get there. James took the chair across from me. It was in just as bad shape as the couch. I dearly hoped the chair didn't collapse in on itself. He would probably break something.

"Do you have a story planned?" This was the question I was waiting for. "Yes, I have one in the making. I'm thinking of doing a love story." "That sounds interesting. It's not something they usually put out there. But, with your writing skills it should be a winner."

"Thanks." My mood was starting to brighten up. "When I win, I'll make a great big meal for us." "That's the spirit." He encouraged. "I have some soup on the stove. Come and have some." "Oh, no I can't." "Yes, you can." At that moment he shuffled over to the kitchen and started to ladle some soup into the bowl. I didn't want to eat his food, but it would offend him if I didn't. I moved over to the rickety table. The chair wobbled once I sat down on it. Placing the bowl of soup down I noticed it's delicious aroma. I took the spoon and took a big scoop. The vegetable soup was amazing. The carrots were cooked to perfection. I shoveled it into my mouth. It was just so good. I did burn my tongue a little though. "This is so delicious." I told him with a grin. "I'm glad you like it." The seat by the window gave me a chill. The windows weren't properly insulated. This building was crap.