Patience Is A Virtue Of The Vindictive

The writer stepped outside on the back porch early one morning and marvled on how purplish the morning sky was. Yawning and stretching, he casually walked down the steps and strolled over to the hammock that was calling out ever so faintly, "It's fresh and cool under these shady elms."

"Well, who could resist such an enticing invite as that," he said out loud.

He carefully sat down and swung his legs over. After spending a couple of minutes getting himself situated, he gave the hammock a small push and within a few minutes drifted off to sleep.

However, his quiet state of slumber did not last for very long as a distant rumbling started to violent shake the trees. As the rumbling grew closer and stronger, it threw the writer from the hammock and started a wild stampede of small animals and birds.

The writer tried to protect himself the best that he could but was simply no match for the multitude of irritants that pounded his body unmercifully.

When it finally subsided, the writer slowly and painfully stretched out his body, before rolling onto his back and passing out. When he came to some several minutes later, he found himself in the middle of a solar eclipse.

"What the?" said the writer as he started to crawl away from the solar eclipse's painful sun rays.

Suddenly the eclipse stepped closer and grabbed his ankles, before leaning in to give the writer a clearer picture. Much to the writer's embarrassment, it was his muse that had a firm grip on his ankles and not a solar eclipse.

She slapped his face a couple of times and said, "I'm back from my little sojourn at the other side of the valley. Got anything new for me to experience?"

"What? No hello, how are you, how's it going, did you miss me?"

"Okay. Hello, how are you, how's it going, did you miss me?"

"Cute."

She leaned in and kissed his forehead. Beeping his nose, she said, "I always am. So do you have anything for cute little me?"

"You beat everything," said the writer as he stuck out his hand.

"Yup. That's why you like me so much," said the muse as she grabbed his hand and yanked him to his feet. Hanging onto his hand, she added, "So where is it?"

"What, the story?"

"Yes."

The writer suddenly pulled her closed and whispered in her ear, "If you look over my shoulder, you'll see a pimped out Tonka 4x4 gleaming in the morning sun. In the front seat is your story. However, make sure you start the engine, because this song will be the key that unlocks your latest adventure in time."

The muse looked over his shoulder and squealed with delight. She threw the writer down and ran over to the pimped out Tonka 4x4 and dove through the open window. She started the engine and as the opening chords grew louder in intensity, the 4x4 took off and transported our mercurial muse to a world where Patience Is A Sin.