A Writer With Noisy Neighbors [FICTOID]

After their Saturday night orgasm -- an explosion of grunts and gasps -- the writer looked at his transcript and tried to find a story idea in it.

Okay, what have I got?

”See the dentist.”  That can be stressful, could go either way:  Funny or horrific.

What did they bring home from the store?  Beets, broccoli, butterbeans, a latte, rainbow sherbet -- maybe a story about somebody being angry their spouse eats junk food and runs up dental bills?  What else?

They talked about her cactus -- that suggests the old west, desert stretching all the way to the horizon.  A dentist in the old west…?

Of course!  Doc Holiday!  Can’t do the gunfight at the OK Corral, that’s been done to death already.

Earlier?  Maybe before he and Wyatt Earp became such great friends?

I got it!  Doc Holiday bungles a filling on a notorious outlaw and has to face him down as a result.  Wyatt Earp steps in to help him and the two become fast friends after that.

Smiling, the writer started typing.  Six months ago, he contemplated suicide, faced with mounting bills and a seemingly insurmountable case of writer’s block.  He was on the verge of being evicted when his new next door neighbors moved in.

They were rude and crude and lewd and loud, and while at first the writer despaired, staying in his apartment only because he had nowhere else to go, he soon found himself getting inspiration from stray words and phrases in their conversations.

He began deliberately listening in, sampling what they had to say, then immediately writing down his ideas when they finally went to bed.

Tonight was a perfect example.  He’d have his story finished and his rent paid by the end of Palm Sunday, less than 24 hours away.

© Buzz Dixon