- Slang. a persistently dull, boring pest.
The heavy vibration of thunder shook the house, causing the windows to rattle. Already two hours in and the storm showed no signs of dying down.
This was Patrick’s favorite weather to write in–dark and stormy, and thoroughly volatile. He used to churn out chapters like fresh butter in this type of setting. But ever since his debut novel hit the New York Times Bestseller’s List, writing a follow up novel had seemed like an impossible task.
His fingers hovered over the metal keys of his grandfather’s antique typewriter. Balled sheets of paper littered the floor of his study like the hail on the grass outside his window. Most of the crumpled mass had no more than a word or two typed on them.
The sky popped with lightning now, illuminating the heavy clouds above.
Words rose to the surface of his consciousness like bubbles of gas from the bottom of a bottle of soda. The scene materialized in his mind’s eye, the words came faster as he thought of this nudnik of a protagonist starting to form in his mind, slowly being covered with flesh and infused with a biting dry humor.
His left index finger reached for the t on his typewriter as words fell on the page.
“The heavy vibration of thunder shook the house, ” Patrick read aloud as he typed the words, “causing the windows to rattle. Already two hours in and the storm showed no signs of dying down…”