A Catalyst in the Chain Reaction of Creativity

Jo said nothing after the beep that introduced the silence she was supposed to fill with her words. She felt the syllables spilling mutely from her lips, her tongue suddenly paralyzed and unable to give them life. Did she even know the man? The one she had watched for so many hours. The one who stood before her and hundreds of similarly eager faces, charting and graphing all his years of knowledge for them to copy onto blue-lined sheets of paper. Did she even know the man well enough to call his widow like this?

Her reverie was broken by the gentle click of the phone as her hand returned it to its cradle. Maybe she would be able to speak when she tried again tomorrow.