text: Written by M. Cosper The man turned off his car and sat silently. He stared out the front of his small car not looking at anything. Not thinking about anything. He had sat in this same parking spot many times. Something about having a moment of nothingness to himself before work helped. Before bosses and customers would interrupt the silence he so enjoyed. He cleared his throat, got out of his car, and went to work. The man did not have a very impressive job, he was a janitor of sorts. Mostly cleaning bathrooms and sweeping the floor of the department store. He would occasionally help load furniture in a customer’s van. He loved doing that the most because it meant he could be outside the building for a few minutes. Today was no different from the rest. He started out by sweeping the entire store floor with an old, gross floor duster. He went up and down every aisle and alley. He would always say “pardon me” as he passed customers. Most would never acknowledge him. After the floors, he would move on to the bathrooms. He came in later in the afternoons to start so the bathrooms had already appeared as if apes had been using it all day, which is not far from the truth. He wiped every sink and toilet till he could see is the emotionless face staring back at him. As he was mopping the floor, he saw it. The spot. A spot that had been there since he was hired. His bosses would always point it out, for awhile he would say “I’ll get to it soon”. After a while, he would just say “Oh yeah, that thing”. He rubbed his mop over it. Nothing changed. The man tried again. Nothing. The man rolled his eyes, put the mop back in its bucket and when about the rest of his cleaning. The man finished the rest of his duties, mostly to the bare minimum he could get away with. He walked to his car, the mist in the air felt like little fangs of ice in the cold. As he drove home, he did not put on music. Just silence. He drove the entire way like this until he reached his house. It was a small little house; his wife had made it into a fine home though. He came into the home and saw his wife making dinner. “Hey honey, how was work today?” She asked gently. “Fine I guess, you?” he said loudly from the bedroom where he was changing clothes. “It was busy, had more patients than I think we have ever had... Food will be done shortly babe” The man did not respond. After he changed, he went into the kitchen to help finish the food and make his plate. “Oh, go sit down, I got it.” His wife said playfully. He obeyed, and went to sit on the couch, while he waited, he started looking for a show for them to watch. They did this most nights. Eat, watch some tv, talk for a bit, go to bed, repeat after work the next day. He was fine with this arrangement. After all, he was too tired from work to ever feel like going out. After their meal and cleaning up, he went and sat at his laptop. He opened it up to see the screen exactly where he left it. A white, blank, empty page with the courser blinking at him. He stared at it for thirty minutes, then played on his phone. After about an hour he and his wife went to bed to sleep. Well, she was sleeping, the man was just staring up at the ceiling, not looking at anything. He couldn’t keep his eyes closed. This went on for what felt like years until he finally fell asleep. The next day went the same as the last. Sweeping up and down the aisle and alleys of the store. He could hear customers chatting or arguing with a manager about if an item is or isn’t on sale. He went to the bathrooms wiped the mirrors of their grease and muck. Then began mopping again. There it was still, that spot. The big ugly spot that looks as if someone crapped on the floor and left it there for days without a soul noticing it. The man barely even brushed over it with his mop. He drove home in silence, again. He did the same routine he always did and after dinner, he found himself at his laptop. It must have weighed a hundred pounds because it took the man minutes to lift the screen. Once he did, he was met by the same white screen, same blinking courser, like it was laughing at him with every blink. The man’s eyes were out of focus as he stared at the screen. His wife's hand suddenly appeared on his shoulder. “Can’t think of anything?” She questioned. “I have plenty of ideas... I just am not good at writing them down.” He said scoffing at himself. “How do you know that?” “Because I would already have a book written by now.” “But you haven’t even written anything. How can you get better at writing your ideas down if you don’t practice?” She said softly. The man paused briefly, “I have about five different ideas, I have the first page written and that’s it. Once I get to that point I don’t know where to go. All the great ideas I have fled from my mind and I am left with nothing but a bunch of dribbling words on a paper than mean nothing to anyone but myself!” The man’s face turned a fiery red, “Who would want to read my pointless garbage anyways? I barely want to read the first page myself.” The man slammed his laptop shut and sat there. Not looking at anything. His wife put her arms around him, he turned his so she couldn’t see his eyes tearing up. “You know what the hardest part about going to work is? Leaving the house, once you start something all you need do is see it through. Getting started and leaving your comfortable place can be the biggest hurdle.” She kissed him on the cheek, and they both went to sleep. The next day the man went into work. Before he could even clock in his boss stopped him. “Hey, are you ever going to get that spot in the men’s bathroom cleaned? It looks terrible.” The man stopped, looked at his boss and said, “I’ll clean it... today.” He went about his usual business sweeping and wiping things down. Finally, he got to the bathroom. He began to mop the greasy floors, he saw it. He stared at it for minutes. That damn spot, laughing at him. He looked right at the spot. Then he walked away. He went to the cleaning closet and got every floor cleaning chemical he could find. Most of the bottles had mountains of dust on them. The man grabbed gloves and a rough brush. He poured one after the other onto to spot. Probably not the safest way to do it but he did not care. He got on his hands and knees and began scrubbing. He scrubbed until the tile started to chip and he could see the foundation of the building. Twenty-five minutes later and he stood up, wiped the sweat from his brow and stared at the floor. Not looking at anything. The spot was gone. The man finished the workday with a big grin on his face. He went beyond his duties on every task he was given. On the way home he turned the music in his car as loud as his ears could stand it! He swerved into the driveway of his house fast, almost to a screeching stop! He walked inside with confidence he had not had in years. His wife wasn’t home yet, so he cooked her dinner and placed it in the microwave for when she came home. The man could not stop smiling. After he finished making his wife’s dinner he sat at his desk. He stared at his laptop for just a moment. Then he flipped open the screen so fast it almost broke off! He stared at the white screen. The saw the courser blinking... He closed his eyes. He did not think about a thing. Then he opened them and began to type.