Picture this scene:
A gnarly hunchback in a dark cave (office).
Deformed hands poised over keyboard.
The glare from a computer screen casting light on the dark circles under their eyes and shadows in the hollows of their cheeks.
Where once a creative human full of hope and inspiration sat, a withered husk remains. His contorted expression fraught and wild with desperation.
He's tormented by rejection.
He's laboured over his novels. He's laboured over his blog posts. He’s poured his heart and soul into all the words he’s ever spilled forth.
Frantic for the world to hear his message.
But nobody does.
Nobody cares about his posts. Or by extension his novels.
He receives few views, and even fewer likes.
If you listen really hard. In a moment or so you’ll hear the subtle crack of his spirit breaking.