Brushing off the Dust

"Testing.  Testing.  One, two.  Is this thing on?"
He chuckled to himself as he thought about dusting off the old keyboard.

Would anyone listen?  Would anyone care?

There was an all to easy to ignore void in his life that he had tried to fill with other things.  Important things, no doubt, but there was always a little something missing.  A bit of his freedom, his whimsy, seemed to have been wadded up and thrown into the back of a broom closet, collecting dust and never seeing the light of day.  He had urges to write, little twinges here and there, all too easily snuffed out by the duties of being a husband, a father, and all the general doldrums of adulthood. 

He couldn't help but wonder why now, why couldn't he shake the urge this time, and why was he sitting in front of a white screen with a digital piece of paper glaring at him as his fingers rested gently on the keys?  This could be just another desperate stab at reliving part of his youth, in which he tended to lose motivation as the duties of life became too hard to ignore.  Then again, it could be something more.