Frey wasn’t use to having writers block. Lyrics accompanied by musical notes usually flowed freely from her fingertips forming effortless songs. Her talent for songwriting was what landed her a job with Big Machine Records, a dream job that she had wanted since she was a child, and now she had it, but felt she was about to lose it. It had been months since she had last submitted a song to her boss.

Frustration was beginning to crawl under her skin, causing her limbs anxiety. Standing from her piano bench, she looked around her music room in hope for inspiration, but none of her instruments beckoned to her. Sighing deeply, she knew that she had to move before her anxiety drove her mad.

As she walked out of her condo, she had every intent on going for a walk, but then she looked up and saw the moon. The moon in all its glory, shone fully and brightly down upon the earth. Everything was illuminated and silhouetted. She wanted to drive somewhere to enjoy such an alluring night.

Francis State Beach. It was Frey’s favorite place to go, especially at night. The beach was protected, which made it secluded from hotels, apartments, and humans in general. It was peaceful with small bluffs that lead down to sandy beaches and whimsical waves. And in Half Moon Bay, the small population didn’t go out after nine.

As she pulled into the parking lot of the beach, she immediately saw someone sitting on the edge of one of the small bluffs. She couldn’t tell if it was a man or women from where she sat, and she felt curiosity creeping past her best judgement.

What are they doing here at this hour?

It was odd for someone to be there that late, but she felt in her gut that the human sitting a distance away from her had something she needed to hear, and she had secluded herself in her condo for too long. She longed for human interaction even though she’d thought she wanted to be alone.

She began to walk slowly and cautiously towards the other person, and as she approached, she realized it was a middle-aged man. She began to feel less confident in her decision, but as she was about to turn around and walk away, the man turned and looked back at her. He smiled kindly at her, but there was something else hidden within his smile. His immediate friendliness made Frey feel more secure. She closed the distance between them and found a seat next to him.

“What brings you here at such a late hour?” He asked.

“I didn’t want to be at home, and tonight is so beautiful. I love it here.”

“This has always been one of my favorite places as well. I’ve had some important revelations here.”

“Like what?”

I used to be so consumed with figuring out what I wanted to do with my life, and I wasn’t living the life that I wanted to live.

“I used to be so consumed with figuring out what I wanted to do with my life, and I wasn’t living the life that I wanted to live.” He paused shortly and pointed out to the sea. “Tell me, what do you see when you look out there?”

“I see dark waves with highlights from the moon, and an endless sea. I see the waves moving freely. I see peace.”

“Exactly. The waves will move, the moon will shine, and the sea will remain endless, no matter what you decide to do. And even if you and I weren’t here right now the world will continue to turn. Our existence is so small on a larger scale and…”

Frey interrupted, “But our existence isn’t small. Yes, there may be billions of people on this earth and yes the world will keep moving even if someone wasn’t here, but to our parents and friends, we are the world. We touch so many lives, and then those people touch others people’s lives, and it becomes a chain reaction.”

Chain reaction.

“Well I guess everything is subjective…”

Frey abruptly stood up and said, “Thank you. You just touched my life. I haven’t been able to write in months, and you just inspired me. Your existence is so important. Please never forget that.”

 

 

 

 

 

I am a current Aims student going for my Liberal Arts Degree. I have been playing classical guitar for five years, and it is one of my passions. My other passion being creative writing. I spend most nights in with my chihuahua (Freya) and a book or journal. Freya is my number one fan, and her name pops up in a few of my short stories.