Alvin was holed up on his bedroom, thinking. He was always thinking, riding his thoughts, watering them, until words blossom out of his mind to his pen. He no longer write news and articles because he became too fed up with politics. He has been under his parents shadows for too long he decided to step away. He found his voice, he found his craft. He became a writer, of novels, of movies, of scripts. And he has a deadline he has been hoping would never come.
The lights flickered outside. He could see the view from his 6th floor condo unit. The city lights, the Christmas lights, even the traffic lights all illuminated the view below. It's only six o'clock.
He gave up on his blank sheet and walked away from his desk. It was Christmas Eve and his birthday too, and yet he was working. He ha
