No longer a secret;the window is shattered

Sara had just got off of work, and was upset because her boss had gotten pissy with her because she hadn't had any good material to satisfy the readers of the 'Author's Journal' a periodical about lots of famous authors, and reviews about their upcoming books.

"Well, at least he didn't fire me," Sara said, relieved.

Once she reached home, she headed for the door, and pulled her housekeys out of her purse, then unlocked the door.

"Another slimy shitball to take care of.."

One of the big top bosses would be at the office tommorow, and she couldn't take a raincheck, and play hooky all day. She really didn't feel like showing off anyhow.

She walked into the kitchen, opened up the pantry, and grabbed a bag of ramen noodles. Then, out of nowhere, the cabinet door flung open, hitting the wall slightly, then swinging back shut.

Sara jerked around and stared at the cabinet door, as though expecting it to pop off of it's hinges, and fall to the floor.

"Oh, shit."

It nearly scared the piss out of her. Now that just wasn't something that happened everyday. 'Just the wind', she thought, but the windows were closed, not to mention they were pretty much bolted shut. The asshole who used to live her before her didn't like intruders, but she didn't blame them. She wouldn't want anyone trying to break into her house. Never in a million years..

Her rants were pointless, as always. She always seemed to complain about the simplest things, but some things really did get on her nerves sometimes.. and that is always the perfect oppurtinity to complain. Of course one day, it would end up getting her in trouble.

She shrugged, and opened the cabinet slowly, and grabbed a plastic bowl. Opening the bag of ramen noodles, she broke the noodles up into squares, and put them in the bowl, then added seasoning, and water. She placed the bowl in the microwave and set the time at 1 minute, and 30 seconds.

After finishing what she had called 'dinner', she went upstairs to her bedroom, and sat at her desk.

Sara drummed her fingers on the stack of papers that sat in front of her, and sighed in frustration.

"I'm gonna cry," she pouted.

Sara had been sitting there for four months, and hadn't come up with anything.. Not a damn thing. This was all too much. She'd never had this problem before. Maybe a little bit of sleep would help her get out of this little stage of writer's block.