Les Overhead Freelance Miner
Back in the mine I went today. Like every day. Descending deep into a shaft with my bag of hammers and chisels and my daily peanut-butter and pickles sandwich.
At the 2,000 foot level I enter the black hole of a tunnel with my headlamp on, searching for signs of ore, a sliver of an idea to dig out and bring to the surface. I probe, pound, and break off drill bits on the hard granite walls. My face becomes caked with sweat and dirt. Even wrapped in tin foil, my sandwich is dusty at lunch. Invisible particles of inspiration get into everything. Even my hair of which I have little.
But alas, it was an empty vein. No ore for this poor miner. But I’ll be back tomorrow. And with aching muscles and my bag of dirt-covered tools over my shoulder, I emerge from the mine and head to a bar. To wash down my dry imagination.