His sweat smells like Benneton
Fresh against the searing sun
I close my eyes and breathe in
The breeze that carries his fleeting aroma
I can't write...
I have the urge...
this strange feeling
clawing it's way out of my chest
I can't put it out in words
I stare at the blank page on my computer screen
the cursor blinking impatiently
I type my first sentence... "I can't write..."
— The End —