Wednesday, October 26, 2011

The Muse Became...

click here for part 1, click here for part 2

Deeply affected by what had transpired only a few minutes ago. The second that she and the mare stepped out of the small grove of trees, a dozen golden finches power dive from the mountain, armed to the teeth with colorful bandannas.

As each finch comes within striking distance, it accelerates and does a head spinning wraparound over a small section of her forearm with the bandanna. When it completes the wraparound, it briefly zooms skyward, then gracefully floats down and comes to a rest on top of her head.

By the time the dozen golden finches finish their job, not only are her arms a fantastic array of sensory overload, but her head had taken on a strange golden hue.

Genuinely concerned about his muse's state of mind, the writer gently pokes around with his pen. After about a minute of gently probing the hidden compartments and dusty rooms, he is surprised to find that while her body is back in the present, her mind is still stuck in the story.

Furrowing his brow, he ponders for a moment on what he should do next. Suddenly a light goes off in his head and he casually strolls over to where the muse currently is. He pats the horse a couple of times on the nose and neck before stepping to the rear. Flashing a goofy smile, he winds up and lets fly a hard slap on the horse's rump.

The horse takes off like a shot and gallops through the field, the valley, jumps over the river, banks left in a wide half-circle, and gallops back the river, the valley and the field, before coming to a screeching halt in front of the writer.

The writer flinches for a moment, then suddenly finds himself on the ground with the muse straddling his chest. She leans in, grabs his shirt and pulls him up until she is nose-to-nose with him. The writer is extremely petrified at the thought of what the muse might do to him again, so he scrunches his face and prepares for the worse. But what he expected wasn't what he got.

The muse stares very hard at the writer, who starts to twitch in anticipation of whole lot of pain. Then she slowly softens her stare and then just as quick, a large genuine smile breaks out across her face.

"Oh. My. God. That was, incredibly fantastic! I simply could not believe that you had that kind of talent in you! That made me feel so real and so alive, that I'm gonna take that mare out on another ride, just so I can experience that feeling again! You made me feel like a brand new person again, like I'm reborn with a purpose!"

She gives him a sloppy kiss before dropping him. She jumps off and then quickly jumps on the mare. Digging her heels in, the mare takes off like a shot and disappears out of sight, leaving the writer to wonder how he was going to keep his muse satisfied.

However, the wondering didn't last for long, as another story idea quickly took shape and he began to furiously write. Some several minutes later, he had yet another adventure for his muse. After giving it the once over, he smiles in satisfaction and puts it away, before saying, "You'll get to see it soon, I promise."

7 comments:

  1. It's amazing what a firm smack on the arse can achieve. ;)

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  2. Hey, you want to share the muse? :)

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  3. Joe: Absolutely. :D

    Lynn: I have a lot of fun with my muse. Sort of like the sister I never had.

    R: Share and share alike. :D

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  4. When your muse kicks off away you go, when it doesn't you just want to kick it in the butt, mine usually works though.

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  5. My muse is a little more nasty looking. I wouldn't want to share his looks with anyone.

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  6. Pat: Sometimes I do want to give her a swift kick in the butt, but I'm afraid of the possible consequences if I did. :D

    Charles: I can dig that. Mine has always been female, which probably mirrors how well I get along with the opposite sex in real life.

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Go on, give me your best shot. I can take it. If I couldn't, I wouldn't have created this wonderful little blog that you decided to grace with your presence today.

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So remember, all of your comments are greatly appreciated and all answers will be given that personal touch that you come to expect and enjoy.

G. B. Miller

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