Success

This is another short little piece for your reading pleasure. For those who may just be joining us, please feel free to follow this blog, post comments, and offer your own story prompts. We writers in my head love feedback!

“As a writer, I will consider myself successful when various editions of my own works line the shelves of my personal library.”

Those words, penned during a motivational workshop early in my writing career, haunt me now. My dream has now been realized yet I still feel far from reaching my potential. Even as I run my fingers along the leather spines of hundreds of volumes, which bear my name, the weight of my own dissatisfaction pushes me down to my knees.

Soft laughter echoes back from the ceiling, only to be captured by the soft pages of my writings. I look up, startled to realize the laughter emanates from me. New laughter harmonizes with mine. A strong hand grips my shoulder from behind and my laughter gives way to a raspy voice.

“It’s never enough, is it, my boy?”

I raise my chin to look into the emaciated face of my mentor. Pale blues eyes filled with a lifetime of memories and more gaze down at me without blinking. Thin greyish lips part enough to allow his yellowed teeth some semblance of a smile.

“This cannot be…” I begin.

Harsh laughter prefaces his words. “Because I am dead?”

“Yes.” Confusion fills my mind, only to be replaced by fear.

I struggle against his grip, but the iron vise tightens as he leans in to blow the fetid smell of death into my lungs. “What you must soon accept is that you have joined me.”

At these final words, I look away from him. I no longer kneel before the altar of my life’s work. My body now lies prostrate on the ground. The image imprints on my soul before fading out as my consciousness melts into the universe.