When Ian left, they stood up on her roof and hugged. It hadn’t been the normal conversation they usually had. But it was important. She felt closer to him. He hugged her hard, kissed the top of her head, and then climbed down and let himself out without a word.
Autumn listened to him go, then looked down and watched as he walked out of the building. He looked up at her and raised his hand in a wave. She smiled and waved back. Ian turned his head back down to Earth and walked off.
Autumn sighed and opened up her computer. She kept watching as it booted up and waited for her to write more of her own torture, more of the captivity of her writer. It was almost a metaphor for writer’s block, in that same way that Moby Dick was. But it was also a metaphor for depression, the way that Misery was a metaphor for alcoholism.
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