A day in the life of an aspiring writer

As dawn breaks, the birds fly onto my windowsill and chirp.  I rise to their sweet sound, fully rested from a fitful sleep.  The night's inspiring dreams sparks the day's creations.

I step into the kitchen, and a pot of herbal tea is already brewed.  It's the perfect temperature, and I sit out on the porch, my feet up, while a small herd of deer wander through the yard.

Once the sun is fully up and I drain my third cup of tea, I take a long soak in the hot tub, letting the bubbles and the intense heat remove any aches from my back.  I grab a hand-rolled Cuban cigar from the humidor, light it up, and breathe in the rich, smooth smoke, blowing smoke rings that float ever-so gently up into the treetops.

Afterwards, I take a long, slow walk along the trails, taking note of the spry wildlife and gorgeous sunny weather.  I find a large stump, cut out into the perfect pattern for a chair, and I sit.  I remove a leather-bound notebook from my pack, uncap my gold Montblanc pen, and write down the perfect prose.

I fill up eight to ten pages without a single scratch-out when I see a small table has been set up, covered by a gleaming white tablecloth.  On the table is a plate of rare China, filled with two slices of white toast, a matching bowl of strawberries, and a creamer filled with rich, cold milk.

"Is the meal to your liking, master?" a tiny elf asks, standing off to the side, dressed in a white and black tuxedo.

"Yes, it is."

"If there is anything else, master, please ring for me."

The elf places a small crystal bell on the corner of the table.

After breakfast, the elf clears the table away in a puff of magic, and I write another eight or ten perfect pages of perfect prose before walking back home.

I enter back at home, only to find that the family of elves that live in the attic have dusted and cleaned every surface, and have even set out a pair of silk pajamas for my late morning nap.

Lunch is followed closely by another soak in the hot tub, another cigar, and another pot of tea.

I ring for the elf.

"Yes, master?" he asks.

"I'm ready for my afternoon drive."

"Which will it be today, master?  The Harley-Davidson, the Porsche, the Lamborghini, or the Corvette?"

"I'm feeling dangerous today.  Let's go with the Lamborghini."

The elf smiles.  "Good choice, master."