Seventeen steps from keyboard to kettle - maybe he could find a way to incorporate that in his story. He liked the alliteration (and the fact no 'h' key was needed.) How would he include details about a kettle when his story was about a story? Now that was something worth reflecting on.
He flicked the switch and listened to the familiar thrum increasing in volume as the water reached the optimum temperature for his cup of coffee. Not for the first time did he wonder why the kettle made that particular noise. It was, in a way, similar to the moulding of a short story. Perhaps that was why this particular appliance appealed to him. The exposition was the flicking of the switch; the complication building to the climax was this tinny crescendo. Perhaps he could use that.
Let it not be said that John was without ideas. The opposite was probably true. Every time he sat down to write, a new idea flung itself at him like a cheap prostitute, serving only to distract him, rather than inspire.
Now he had the kettle; that would be his story. He scratched the incessant itch in his beard one more time before he flexed his fingers and began to write.