The life of an author is not that easy. It is full of
confusion; mystery and mostly, it isn't very glamorous. You
never know what is about to happen. Especially if you are
Adam Iron, a young, failed author, who spent most of his
adult life looking for inspirations and contracts - that
just refused to come.
And so it was, at the summer of 1935, when Adam left his old
home in a small town in England, called Windsdore and moved
to New-York. This was the seventh time Adam was moving since
he had become an author. He wandered around the world,
hoping that somewhere, one publisher would agree to publish
one of his books. Adam wanted to become an author since he
was only 11 years old, he just didn't know it would be that
hard...
Adam's new apartment was even smaller then his old place.
After all, he was left with no money because of the seven
houses he bought. His apartment was really hideous and
dirty. There was one small, wooden and termites eaten bed;
one faded blue desk and some kind of a small box, that
apparently was used by Adam to preserve his food.
Every day, Adam used to sit behind his old desk on a small
aluminum chair and type on his old typewriter. However, he
never managed to finish either one of his books. As a matter
of fact, he never managed to finish even one single
paragraph, because he just couldn't come up with any ideas
for his books... Adam also didn't have money for repairs.
Therefore, his house was full of pesticides, leaks &
dampness, which made his writing even more difficult than it
already was.
The only place Adam thought was peaceful and serene enough
to try and express himself was an old, dirty, abandoned pub
at the end of First Avenue. The pub was very quiet and empty
most of the time, yet, now and again someone came in through
the cracked wooden doors. The glasses in which the drinks
were served were filthy and dusty, and so were the people
who drank from them. The people used to drink their beers,
search their pockets for their last dime, and when they
finally found it, they usually put it in the bartender's
hand and passed-out on the contaminated floor. There was one
drunken man, Malcolm, who used to sit every day at the
furthest table and complain in front of the toothless
bartender about how depressing his life was.
Every time Adam entered the pub, the eyes of all the people
in the pub turned and looked at him. In a way, they admired
him and his typing machine. To them, he was a very rich man.
Therefore, they couldn't get a decent drink in a respectable
place. "See, it can always get worse..." Adam comforted
himself, while watching the few people in the pub, trying to
steal pennies from one another. And while Adam was thinking
about the poor people, they turned their looks away and went
to mind their own business.
Adam used to sit by the bar and write, and at the end of
each day, he used to come back to his low-cost apartment
with only six words printed. The next day he would erase the
things he wrote and start all over.
One sunny morning, Adam got up early so he could keep on
writing. It was a burning hot day. The sun was boiling and
it seemed to Adam that it was about to burn his typewriter
with its cruelty. He put his valuable machine under his
black, faded old T-shirt and walked towards the pub. This
time, he took a different route then the usual. This way, he
thought, the inspiration may come...
He wondered down the street, trying to hide his typewriter
from the threatening sun. While he was walking he suddenly
ran into this tall, fancy building. He looked up and saw a
huge neon sign, which said "Johnson et Edwardson Inc.
Publishing Office". Without thinking he ran into the
building and burst through the shiny glass doors. The inside
of the building was even more impressive than it was on the
outside. Outstanding chandeliers hung from the ceiling and
big white candles lit the gigantic hall. Near the entrance
stood a brown counter. Behind it sat a young good-looking
girl. She must be the receptionist, Adam thought. She was
also very beautiful but not as beautiful as the building.
Adam stopped thinking about the girl. He was too busy
staring at the tremendous hall. Adam started walking towards
the woman sitting behind the counter, and while she was
flirting with a few handsome men, he was suddenly overcome
with strong feelings of jealousy, yet he couldn't figure out
why. He approached the counter and stood opposite her.
- "Hum, excuse me, please Madam, I was wondering if I may be
able to, hum, meet with one of the distinguished publishers
and hum, excuse me --- Miss???" The receptionist who until
now was preoccupied with smiling at the other gentlemen
requested their forgiveness and addressed Adam.
-  "Yes please, may I help you, sir?" She asked confidently
while smiling at him.  "Hum... Miss---", Adam asked in
purpose to hear her name.
-  "Jenarraty. Samantha Jenarraty." He didn't quite know
why, but something about her name attracted Adam. It was
dazzling. It was all Adam could think about.  Samantha
Jenarraty.  
-  "Hum... Miss--- Miss Jenarraty---My---My name is Adam
Iron and I--- I'm an author." Adam smiled proudly, hoping
his occupation would impress her, but she didn't smile back,
not especially for him, anyway.
-  "I---was wondering if --- well ---if I can talk to one of
the publishers."  Samantha removed her smiling eyes from
Adam's face and looked at one of the many papers that were
on her desk. She took out a pen and made a small mark next
to the name 'Johnson'.
-  "It is your lucky day, sir", she said, "the distinguished
Mr. Edward Johnson is presently available at the moment; he
is on the fifth floor, the second door from the staircase.
You can approach him now Mr.--- Iron."
 Adam turned away and started to walk towards the
staircase. He felt butterflies in his stomach, but he was
convinced it was because of the lunch he didn't eat. He had
mixed feelings for Samantha, could it be love?
-  "Sir, what are you waiting for? Would you like me to
escort you to Mr. Johnson's office?"
- What?" asked Adam as he suddenly returned to reality. "I
hum... I mean ham...well, no thanks, I assume I will be able
to find my way. Thank you, Miss Janaratty." He smiled.
-"You're welcome---Adam", she smiled back. Hearing his name
from her lips was moving... However, not too much.

Adam slowly opened the decorative door.  The name 'Edward
Johnson' was boldly printed on it. Adam was stunned by the
magnificent appearance of the very large room. On a chair
covered with horse leather sat a middle-aged man.
A few gray hairs covered his partly bald head. He looked at
Adam with a welcoming smile and invited Adam to come in.
- "Hello, my name is Edward Johnson, and you must be---"
- "Iron, A---Adam Iron".
Adam could not contain his excitement.
- "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Iron." said Edward Johnson
politely as he shook Adam's hand. " You may have a seat."
Adam sat down slowly and Mr. Johnson calmly said the
following: "I know who you are. You are one of those
'try-to-become-a writer' people".
Adam scratched his unshaven cheek, listening to Edward
carefully. He was offended, but he thought he could actually
get his first contract, so he said nothing. Getting a
contract was very important, so he decided there was no
point arguing at that point. Edward continued: "However,
young man, you look like a desperate man who needs
money---", Adam bit his lip, "You know what, I will give you
a chance, but allow me to tell you something, Mr. Iron. In
order to get a contract with us, you are required to prove
yourself. People will lose faith in us if we will let them
read unprofessionally written books. You know, if we will
publish books written by failing authors, the company's
value will drop to levels that even you can not imagine...
Do you think that you will be able to cope with our demands,
sir?"
- "Ho, absolutely!" replied Adam confidently.
- "Very well, then" answered Mr. Johnson and took out a few
papers from one of his drawers. He passed the contract to
Adam who quickly signed it. His unrestrained excitement was
clearly seen on his face.
- "In order to make sure that the book will be completed
soon enough, I will give you a time limit---". Edward
stopped for a moment and looked at Adam's confident face,
and than proceeded: "Forty days, Mr. Iron. Forty days and
not a single day more. Can you handle this time-limit?"
- "Yes sir" Adam answered with a confident voice, although
his face expressions reveled his hesitancy. How will he
complete a three-hundred page book in forty days, when he
has been trying to write for five years and has never came
up with any ideas for a story. He was talented, no doubt;
however the inspiration kept slipping from his hands...
- "Excellent!" said Mr. Johnson contently, "Now, off you go,
there is no time to waste..." Adam got up from his seat and
approached the door. When he stood in the corridor, he was
unsure of his feelings. He wasn't quite sure whether he was
happy or hesitant. Either way, he knew that very hard work
awaited him...
Adam forgot Samantha, yet the butterflies in his stomach
didn't let go...

The first place Adam could think about after leaving Edward
Johnson's office was the pub, which, by the way, was called
'the dirty duck'. Adam, as usual, sat by the bar, placed his
typewriter up on the bar and began to wonder what will he
write about. And as he wondered, a soft breeze blew through
the cracked doors.
Adam raised his head, and for a second, he just sat all
amazed and shocked. The sight he saw was breath-taking:
In a pair of shiny black shoes with high heels were
perfectly placed a pair of long, smooth legs. A red silk
sleeveless dress covered the most sensational body Adam had
ever seen. Soft feminine hand held a sparkling purse and a
wide rim black hat was placed gently on black head of hair,
which flowed down to wide shoulders.
Adam held his breath. He felt like he was about to faint. He
began to sweat. The woman, that until then stood between the
wooden doors, which resembled the style of the Wild West,
entered the pub and sat by the bar next to Adam. She took
off her hat and turned to the bartender: "One Martini, dry.
And make it snappy". The bartender who apparently was also
shocked by her beauty went to prepare her drink immediately.
All the eyes in the pub were pinned on her, which was a
change for Adam as all the eyes were always pinned on him.
Could it be a dream? Adam pinched his arm in order to
confirm the sight that was revealed to him.
- "A writer, huh?"
- "What?" asked Adam, who only now realized that the
question, that came from the woman's red lips, was addressed
to him.
- "A writer, are you?" she repeated her question and pointed
at Adam's typewriter.
- "yes" answered Adam, half smiling half hesitating.
-"Interesting. Any books I might know?"
Adam didn't know how to reply. After all, he wasn't a real
writer. He wrote nothing in his entire life. What will he
say in order not to embarrass himself in front of this
beautiful woman? Adam looked at the people surrounding him.

They were all men. He expected some random help from one of
those present, but they had already returned to their
previous occupation.
Fortunately for Adam, just when he was about to open his
mouth in order to confess the awful truth, the bartender
returned with the woman's drink. Adams couldn't believe what
he saw: Instead of a dirty glass, lo and behold, the glass
presented was a crystal shiny glass. The glass was filled
with a pure see-through martini drink, and inside it was a
wooden toothpick with a perfect sized green olive.
- "That will be fifty pennies, Lady". The bartender yelled
in his husky voice, which was usually rude but now had an
additional politeness to it.
Great! Thought Adam. That's the perfect moment to impress
her.
The lady took out a one-dollar bill from her purse and
approached the bartender in order to hand it over to him.
But Adam attempted to beat her to it and managed to stop
her.
- "Pardon me, my good man," said Adam to the bartender and
reached down into his pocket, " I will pay for the lady's
drink." The woman smiled as she returned the dollar bill to
her purse. Adam felt around in his pocket. What a bugger,
this can't be happening! Adam thought to himself while he
kept searching hysterically in his pocket for a measly one
dollar, but alas, there was nothing. Adam's depressed face
said it all... yet to his dismay the lady smiled and yet
again took out the one-dollar bill from her purse.
- "Here is the money for the Martini," she said to the
bartender, "And... pour another one please, I think that
this tense man needs to loosen up a bit." Her smile did not
leave her face, but in her words one could detect check. The
bartender grabbed the bill from her hand and returned to his
work. Adam felt every part of his body sinking into his
feet. He had never felt so humiliated, despite the fact that
he had so often been embarrassed and turned away, because of
his lack of money.
How could she do such a thing to me? After all, it is well
known that men are sensitive to such humiliations.
Money often hurts people, but it seemed to hurt Adam over
and over again.
- "My name is Aurora, what is yours?"
- "My name is Adam", he answered sadly, yet with slight
happiness, because after all, he was talking to the most
beautiful woman he had ever seen. Aurora, what a beautiful
name! Aurora!
The bartender came back, yet this time he held a small,
dirty dusty cup. Inside it, there was an unknown white
drink. Adam knew it wasn't Martini, but he kept quiet and
said nothing about the weird drink and the filthy cup. After
all, when being in such a desperate position like Adam was,
it didn't matter what was the drink, as long as there was a
lot of alcohol in it.






Adam woke up the next morning to the sound of chirping
birds. He couldn't remember a thing from the previous night.
He rolled over in the bed and opened his eyes. To his
surprise, Adam found himself in an unfamiliar room. An
unfamiliar closet, an unfamiliar bed, an unfamiliar sheets,
and--- he wasn't alone! His head was dizzy from yesterday.
He probably drank, drank a lot! His head worked rapidly. His
brain worked continuously. A lot of ideas came to his mind,
ideas for plots. Could it be??? Something next to him
suddenly began to move, better yet, it was someone! A
familiar body popped out of the silk blanket. Suddenly, his
memory began to come back to him. Suddenly, everything was a
bit clearer. He remembered a night of heat. A rough night of
passion, yet it wasn't a night of love.
- "Aurora, is that you?!" asked Adam, and you could tell by
his voice that he was tired.
Aurora discovered herself between the sheets; she was lying
right next to him. Her smell was dazzling. It seemed to Adam
that she fell down straight from heaven and landed on the
bed next to him.
They lay next to each other quietly. Adam looked at her
polishing her nails for about a minute, and then she got out
of the bed and started to get dressed.
-"what happened???", Adam asked while yawning.
- "You have to leave", she replied anxiously while looking
at her golden watch.
- " Bu---but why?"
- " Because----Well, we spent a passionate, lovely night
and---that is it. Now it is your time to leave".
- "Will I ever see you again?"
-  "Call me when you will get lonely. There is a phone in
the hotel at Lane Avenue ", she smiled, and "I will be here,
waiting for you."
Adam smiled back. He was still convinced he was delusional.
Can she be serious? He wanted to stay. Just to lay besides
her a little longer. He wanted her more then anything else
at that moment, but on the other hand, he wanted to leave
and run back to his apartment as fast as he could, and write
stories with all the ideas running in his head.
Adam didn't feel a thing for Aurora. He felt nothing but
passion. Aurora was the source of Adam's inspiration. She
was his muse.

From the very moment Adam's feet landed on his house
threshold and up until the time when his first book was
finished, writing was all Adam did. However, once in a
while, when he was all out of ideas, he met with Aurora and
spent some more passionate moments with her. One day, when
Adam was really close to finishing his first novel, he
stopped writing for a second and began to wonder: don't I
use her? Could it be that my greedy mind is really the thing
that hurts her and make me feel so bad about myself?
However, all those thoughts didn't occupy him for too long.
Therefore, the time limit Mr. Johnson gave him to finish his
book was about to expire.
Only a week had passed, and Adam already managed to finish
his first novel: A love story between an American spy and a
Russian immigrant.

With a lot of excitement, Adam burst through the shiny glass
doors of the fancy, tall building named: "Johnson et
Edwardson Inc. Publishing office". It all looked so
familiar, despite the time that had passed since the last
time he visited there.
While Adam marched towards the staircase, he suddenly
noticed the counter. Behind it, sat a very beautiful woman.
She was flirting with a few handsome men. He was suddenly
overcome with those strong, familiar feelings of jealousy.
Yes, of course! It was Samantha Jenarraty! How could he
forget her?

Adam's first novel was a success. It wasn't a big success,
but it was successful enough for Adam to buy himself a
bigger apartment. It wasn't too big, it wasn't too small. It
was just fine, and without any doubt, it was a lot fancier
than his old place. Adam also bought himself a new, advanced
typewriter.
Adam continued to spend more passionate nights with Aurora,
and every morning, he used to get up, leave Aurora's fancy
house and go to his place in order to write.
Simultaneously to his nights with Aurora, Adam used to spend
a lot of time with Samantha. They were friends, and so they
did all kinds of activities friends used to do that time.
They went jogging in the park, they went dancing and
sometimes they even went shopping.
Adam felt strong feelings. Some weird feelings of love,
however he didn't know for whom he felt all those feelings:
He knew he didn't love Aurora. The only reason Adam spent
time with her was simply money. She gave him all kinds of
ideas for his books, and publishing his books gave him
money; can those strong love feelings come from his
connection with Samantha? Could he be in love with one of
his best friends? No, there is no way he is in love with
Samantha. After all, they were just friends. Friends, and
nothing more than that.
The longer Adam kept denying his feelings for Samantha, the
stronger they got, and the more confusing they got.
Adam signed an exclusive contract with "Johnson et Edwardson
Inc.", yet the more he wrote, the more he felt he was taking
advantage of Aurora; and so, Adam said goodbye to Aurora and
went on his way. The way of independence. However, the
charge of the strong love feelings just didn't let Adam
go...


Adam marched confidently towards the counter while
straitening his messy brown hair. Yes, Aurora had been a
dream, but what he felt for Samantha was good and real, and
for the first time in his life it felt stronger than
anything he could ever imagine.
He reached for Samantha. For this one quiet moment they just
stood there, looking at each other without saying a word.
Then, Adam opened his mouth and said softly: "Samantha,
during my life I have done some things that I am not proud
of. I did those things in order to get things I thought
would make me happy. Today I realize that I don't care about
living with no money at all. I have lost my inspiration, but
it really does not matter, as long as you have love in your
life. Love is the real inspiration. I was blinded by love,
and so I never saw the wonders it did to me. Now, I know...
The uncontrolled chase after money sometimes makes us do all
kinds of silly things. Things that when we finally get them,
we realize how stupid we were trying to get them. Love is
silly, but love, as opposed to many other things, is worth
the silliness..."
Samantha smiled. She looked at him with her deep blue eyes
and said nothing. Adam slid his hand along her hazel hair.
Adam put his lips against Samantha's, and together they
experienced the most romantic kiss they had ever had. A
kiss, which stemmed from true love.