Writer's Block

She woke in the middle of the night, chilled to the bone by what could only be described as a stiff breeze blowing across the bed. It was early fall in Wisconsin and warm days often yielded to crisp chilly nights once the sun abandoned the sky. Dawn, pushed the covers away and stretched to turn on the bedside lamp. She flicked the switch three times, but nothing happened. She noticed that the digital alarm clock that otherwise should be glowering at her with its red numerals, was also dark. The only light came from her cell phone when she touched its screen to wake it up. She used it to light her way across the room where she found the widow wide open. Now the chill she was feeling was no longer attributable only to the cold night wind, but even more so to the deep sense of foreboding that she was no longer alone in the cabin.

She quickly closed the window, activated the flashlight feature on her phone and spun around, pointing it back toward the center of the room like a weapon; held at arms-length with both hands. "Who's there," she yelled, making every effort to calm the tremor in her voice that would surely betray the paralyzing sense of fear that was building in her gut. Total silence. All she could hear was her own breathing, become more rapid by the minute. If she did not control it, surely, she would begin hyperventilating. She made her way to her purse hanging from one of the bed posts and dumped its contents on the bed, looking for the small can of mace she carried with her. Brushes, combs, various vials of makeup and all of the other detritus of her handbag briefly camouflaged the mace and her panic continued to build as she tossed them out of her way to get to it. Finally, it was in her hand and now, she extended it in her left hand while continuing to hold her phone out before her in her right. She swept the room with the phone light and the mace. Only when she was satisfied that the room was empty did she pull the screen toward her and dial 911, only to be reminded that there was no signal. "You idiot, she thought to herself, you wanted to be isolated - well, you got your wish."

As cautiously and quietly as she could, she opened the bedroom door to the loft just outside it. The flashlight on her phone only partially illuminated the loft and the void beyond into the living area below. "I have a gun" she exclaimed, as assertively and persuasively as she could. Silence. "I've already called the police and they're on their way," she bluffed, not expecting to be believed. Again, silence. She made her way to the stairs and started down. Each step creaked loudly under her bare feet. When she reached the lower level, she again scanned the room with her phone but saw nothing out of order. She walked to the fireplace and bent to retrieve the iron poker from its stand. As she did so, she heard rustling behind her. She turned rapidly to point the phone's light in the direction of the sound, but in her haste dropped it. Someone was in the room, but he was moving rapidly away from her now, toward the front door. She could hear him fumbling with the lock as he struggled to release it. By the time she was able to retrieve her phone and point it in the direction of the door, all she captured in the beam of light was the blackness of the night beyond the open door. She rushed to slam it shut, and for the first time, allowed herself to take a deep breath. She slumped to the floor, her back to the door and began to cry softly.

Dawn looked at her phone and checked the time. It was 5:40 am and she knew that it would be light soon, but rather than return to bed, she decided to stay put. Around 6:00 am, she heard the refrigerator come back on and surmised that the power had returned. Then, with the coming of first light, she rose and made a pot of coffee. She was on her second cup when she heard the knock at the door a little after 7:00 am. It startled her, but she remembered that Nathan had told her that he was coming over to fix breakfast. She walked to the door, put her ear to it and said," is that you Nathan." "Yes, it's me, he responded. I'm going to fix breakfast for us, remember. Am I too early?" "No, no, she said, the relief in her voice clear. "Come in, come in," she said as she released the lock and opened the door.

He looked at her with real concern showing on his face. The distress of the night's events was still etched on her face. Her eyes were puffy, her hair askew and worry lines ran in parallel lines across her forehead. He placed the bag of groceries on a nearby table, took her hands in hers, and said "What's wrong, Dawn. Did something happen?"

"Yes, she said. Someone broke in last night while I was sleeping. It was so dark; the power was off and he ran out the front door before I could get a look at him. I tried to call for help, but I couldn't get a signal out on my cell." At this, she began to sob and fell into his arms. "My God, he said, that must have been terrifying. Are you OK? Did he harm you in any way? How did he get in; I checked all the doors and windows yesterday and they were all locked." "I don't know, she sobbed; I woke up to find the window in my bedroom wide open." "Stay here he said, I'll be right back." He went out the front door and walked around the cabin, looking for any signs of entry. He immediately saw the ladder propped up against the side of cabin, its top rung terminating at the bedroom window. It didn't take him long to turn it into kindling with his steel-toed work boots.

Dawn was too upset to eat any breakfast. She had to figure out what to do. She knew she had the option of packing up and returning to Chicago. It was an attractive option, but one she was reluctant to exercise for a number of reasons. Her writer's block had magically vanished and she was making amazing progress on her new novel. She had no idea whether returning to Chicago would break that spell, but she wasn't sure she wanted to test that. Moreover, she bridled at the thought of being scared away by a prowler in the night. She was a big girl, she told herself; able to defend herself with a little preparation. Finally, there was Nathan. Their time together had been blissful and exciting. She hadn't felt this sexually fulfilled in a long time, and she selfishly wanted more of him.

She looked up at Nathan, the tears now drying from her eyes. "I'm not going to be scared off Nathan. I'm going to stay and finish my novel, but I need your help." "Anything, he said. What can I do?" "I need a gun, she said; something I can keep next to my bed at night." His eyes widened a bit. "Wow, he said, I thought you were a city girl. Do you even know how to shoot?" Yes, she said, my grandfather used to take us kids squirrel hunting, and I know how to handle a gun." "I have an extra shotgun, he said. I'll bring it over to you. I also have a walkie-talkie that I can leave with you. Use it if you need me - anytime of day or night."

"Thank you, Nathan," she said, feeling much better and more empowered now to stand her ground against any intruder. After thoroughly checking the cabin for any other suspicious signs, and finding none, Nathan left to retrieve the shot-gun and walkie talkie. When he returned, he showed her how to use both. He was prepared to stay the day, but she told him that she needed to work on her novel while it was still fresh in her mind. He was reluctant to leave her, but she promised him that they could meet back at the cabin later for dinner.

After Nathan left, Dawn took a deep breath, set up her laptop on the writing desk (no more than a large wooden table, actually) and placed the walkie-talkie next to it. She propped the shotgun against the wall and opened up her notebook to the outline she had prepared the day before laying out the next two chapters of her book. She forced herself to put the events of the last night behind her and focus on her story-telling. Time passed quickly and by mid-afternoon, she had made considerable progress. However, her lack of sleep and the stress of the break-in began to wear on her. She decided it would be a good idea to take a nap before Nathan returned.

She climbed the stairs to the upstairs bedroom, placed the walkie-talkie on the nightstand next to her and collapsed on the four-poster bed. Finally feeling somewhat secure, she quickly fell into a deep sleep. She awoke in the late afternoon dimness brought on by heavy cloud cover and the dense trees that pressed in on all sides of the cabin. She looked towards the nightstand and reached for the walkie-talkie. It wasn't there. Thinking it may have fallen off, she dropped to her hands and knees and searched for it on the floor. It wasn't there. Then she thought she heard something in the living area below.

As quietly as she could, she made her way to the loft balcony overlooking the main room below. There was even less ambient light on the level below, but there was clearly someone there. A dim figure was bent over her computer, apparently reading what was on the screen. The glow from the screen was bright enough to illuminate the face of the intruder, but he had his back to her. The shotgun, which she had foolishly left behind next to her writing desk, was still propped up against the wall, within easy reach.

Her mind raced. Should she try to silently make her way down the stairs and bolt for the door? There was no clear escape route otherwise. Should she try to hide? There was no secure hiding place on the upper level that she was aware of. Should she shout at the intruder; challenge him in some way? She had no weapon to speak of and couldn't be sure if he would bolt out the door or come charging up the steps. As she looked down into the dim light, she saw something else even more alarming. He was holding something in his right hand. At first, she thought it might be a weapon, but then the light from the computer screen caught it momentarily and illuminated the walkie-talkie. A chilling realization crossed her mind. He must have taken the walkie-talkie from her nightstand while she slept. How long did he stand there looking at her? What was he thinking? Did he touch her in any way?

But then, as she contemplated the possibilities, some of her fear and anxiety began to drain away as she also realized that while he had a clear opportunity to do her harm, he had not acted on it. She decided to take a chance. She leaned over the railing and said "Nathan, is that you?" The figure bolted upright and stood stock still, not moving. "Nathan?" she asked again. She knew it wasn't Nathan. This man was much larger in stature.

The figure slowly turned and looked up at her. No longer illuminated by the computer screen, his face was again enveloped in darkness. But when he finally spoke, it was clear that it was not Nathan. "I like your story," he said flatly, his voice devoid of any human emotion. Then, without saying anything more, he put the walkie-talkie down, turned and left through the front door. As soon as the door closed, Dawn rushed down the stairs and bolted it. As she stood there, back against the door, she could feel her heart pounding in her chest. Not long after, a loud knocking on the door startled her, and she jumped away from the door and ran to grab the shotgun. She aimed it dead center at the door and shouted in the most threatening voice she could muster "if you try to open that door, I'll shoot. I mean it. I swear I'll kill you." The knocking ceased. "It's me, Nathan", came the reply. The sound of his distinctive baritone calmed her. She lowered the gun, threw back the bolt on the door and swung it open.

He immediately saw the look on her face as well as the shotgun in her hands, and his quizzical expression immediately turned to one of deep concern. "What happened, are you OK, why didn't you answer me on the walkie-talkie?" He glanced over at the table. The walkie-talkie laid there on its side, impotent without the 9-volt battery lying next to it. He gently took the shotgun from her hands, leaned it against the wall and took her in his arms. She began to sob against his shoulder as she attempted to explain to him what had happened. "It's OK, he said, I'm here now and I'll stay the night with you."

Later, they sat at her table and tried to make sense on the events of the last few days. The two glasses of wine and the pan-fried quail and wild rice that Nathan prepared for them succeeded in putting Dawn in a more relaxed state. "I'll talk to the sheriff in the morning said Nathan. Maybe there have been some other break ins, or he may have some idea as to who us responsible." "Thank you" she said, relief clear in her voice.

They fell asleep in each other's arms that night and didn't wake until a bright slice of morning sun penetrated their closed eyelids and coaxed them out of their deep sleep. He looked at her morning face, bathed in the morning sunshine, soft and sensuous in repose. He leaned in to kiss her, intending for it to be a gentle morning wake-up kiss. Before he could pull away however, she placed her hand against the back of his neck and pulled him closer. Her return kiss was full of hunger and passion and her lips and probing tongue signaled to him that she wanted much more than a simple good morning kiss.

Exhausted, they had fallen into bed full clothed and had slept that way through the night. Now, they clawed at each other's clothes in their eagerness to press their naked bodies together. Soon, all that remained were her panties, a wispy thong that quickly yielded when Nathan jerked them away. With no interest in preliminaries, Dawn opened her legs, pulled her knees up to her chest and commanded Nathan to take her. He was more than ready for her. He kissed her hungrily as he positioned himself between her thighs and paused only briefly as she reached down to guide him to her opening. Once there, he pushed in with one deep thrust. Dawn cried out in response. She held his head in her hands; his lips inches from her; and locked eyes with him. "Oh my God. Your cock is so hard; so deep in me. I can feel every inch of you. Fuck me; fuck me hard; I want your cum in me." His stokes were long and deliberate at first, but as she wettened, he increased his rhythm and she could hear the wet sounds of their love-making. Soon, she was gushing, and with each thrust spurts of her pussy juice covered the length of his cock and began to run down between her legs and pool on the bed. Their eyes were still locked together when he moaned deeply and began to cum in her. "Cum in me baby, cum in me, I want to feel your hot cum deep in me," she commanded. She felt every rope of his thick cum as it hit the walls of her vagina and cervix. When his eruptions began to subside, she squeezed his still-hard cock with her pussy to milk out every last drop. "That feels so good baby, so good." He slowly pulled his full length from her, his shaft shiny and glistening with the combination of their juices. When the head finally emerged, it was followed by a stream of his cum that dribbled down her pussy lips, into her ass-crack and onto the bed, where it further widened the growing wet spot.

Nathan rose up on his elbows and eased the weight of his hips off of hers. He looked down at her face, still bathed in the morning sunlight, and said "that was incredible. Now, it's your turn baby." With that, he lowered his face to her still open legs and began to run his tongue up and down the length of her soaking wet pussy. She grabbed his head with both hands and pulled his mouth into her pussy, where his lips met her lips in the most intimate kiss possible. His tongue flicked at her clit while he inserted one finger deep into her pussy and his thumb deep into her ass. The sensations drove her to heights she had never experienced before and soon her hips were undulating and her thighs were quivering. When she came, it was with an intensity that seized her entire body. The orgasm rolled from her toes, up into her legs and into her thighs, then onto her stomach, breasts and nipples, and finally into her flushed face. When the last tremors finally ceased, she pulled Nathan to her and kissed him deeply, savoring the taste of their love-making on his lips.

His back against the wall just outside the bedroom door, beathing deeply, the intruder looked down at the white silk panties wrapped around his cock, where he had emptied his seed moments before. He had purloined them from Dawn's bedroom while she slept earlier. He had planned to steal away with them, but the sounds of their love-making had aroused him and now they were soaked with his cum. He let them drop to the floor and slowly made his way down the hall toward the stairs, stealing a quick glance into the bedroom where he saw their naked bodies still entwined.

Dawn bolted upright when she thought she heard the front door creak as it was pulled shut. "What is it?" asked Nathan. "The door, I thought I heard the door" she responded. He pulled on his pants and ran out of the room. Soon, he returned holding something in his hand. "He was here; he was spying on us while we made love," he exclaimed. He extended his hand and let the panties drop on the bed. She began to reach for them but he said "don't touch them, he came all over them." "Oh my God," she said, quickly pulling her hand back.

They dressed and Nathan drove them to the Sherriff's office, where they gave him a full account of what had happened. They even brought along the panties, now sealed in a plastic baggie, so they could be tested for DNA. The Sherriff was sympathetic and said he would increase patrols near her cabin, but also stressed that his resources were limited. They were not encouraged when they left. Dawn thought again about cutting her trip short and returning to Chicago, but she was making such good progress on her novel and besides, there was no guarantee that the stranger would not follow her back. At least here, she had Nathan to protect her and she felt safe with him.

Nathan stayed with her the rest of the day, mostly just watching her work at her desk. When the light began to dim at the end of the day, she closed her laptop, looked up and smiled at him. "Three chapters today, she said. I've never been able to do that much in a single day. You inspire me." Nathan smiled back and said "get your things together and come with me. Tonight, you're staying with me - away from this place." She nodded her agreement, relieved that she would be with him again, and in a safe place.

She continued this pattern for the next week, after which she returned to her own cabin where she stayed for the next two weeks. There were no further incidents and she began to feel less anxious and more confident. The walkie-talkie and shotgun always remained close by, but she felt much less dependent on them. She had not seen much of Nathan in recent days. He had taken a lot of time off to be with her and now was trying to catch up on a number of projects that had piled up. Progress on her book continued apace and as October wore on and the days became progressively shorter, she was confident that she could complete her first draft by the end of the month. The weather had gotten increasingly less hospitable. All the leaves were gone from the trees and cold fall winds whistled in the rafters of her cabin.

The Sherriff hadn't turned up any leads regarding the intruder. There was no match for the DNA in the database and little other physical evidence to explore. On occasion, she heard one of the Sherriff's patrol jeeps roll past the cabin late at night, usually pausing to sweep its powerful spotlight abound the cabin's perimeter, but there were no further break-ins and no further signs of the intruder. As each day passed, the memory of the break-ins grew dimmer and she looked forward with renewed confidence at the prospect of finishing her book ahead of schedule.

She still saw Nathan as often as they could manage. Their love-making was always intense, but she felt no emotional connection with him, and while she was not looking forward to leaving in a few days, she had no reservations about doing so. Besides, it was not an overly long drive from Chicago, and she was already looking forward to returning in the Spring once winter released its grip.