I am never alone. They are with me on the train. They are with me on my daily run. They are with me at all family holidays (usually making snarky comments). Sometimes they are young girls or old men. Sometimes they are innocent, but usually they have seen the worst of the world. Sometimes their story is long and laborious. Occasionally their story is short and sweet. No matter who they are, they are with me. They beg me to tell their story. They appeal to my better nature. I wish I could turn them away but I can’t. The so-called “writers block” usually happens when a character turns their back on me so I cannot tell their story. Perhaps they are not ready to tell me yet, or more likely, I am not ready to listen. I have let some down, and never told their story. The lucky few live for the audience to see. Some people would say I am crazy, but I am just a writer. Either way, I am never alone.