Funny thing about my Muse, she deserts me often. The voices go on a hiatus, and I’m left alone. Sometimes it happens when live gets real complicated, sometimes it happens in the middle of a great inspirational week.
I have learned a trick to coax my Muse back to me. Music, she loves music. There are a few songs that seem to be her favorites; she comes back if I listen to them long enough. Two weeks ago my Muse left, the voices quieted and I was alone again. It was a busy week; real life and homeschooling were getting in the way.
Last week I sat in front of a black screen. My fingers tapped the keys, but nothing showed for their restless movement. Then out of the dark my Muse appeared, she held in her hands Pink’s new album, “The Truth About Love.” and my fingers began dancing across the keyboard.
The werewolf story I wanted to wait to write, began speaking loudly. My dear Muse, is now determined I must listen to this story also. I wrote three short stories at 1,000 words or so each and a few pieces for the werewolves. I’ll share a part of what I wrote; here is a small teaser for you
I saw him leaning up against the tree where I had found him. The moon shone down on him. He was so handsome. I looked up at the moon. I had to, or my mind would wander off to the places it shouldn’t go. To most, they would think it was a full moon; but I knew better. It was the Waxing Gibbous, tomorrow was the full moon. He looked up at me and smiled. I couldn’t get close to him; I feared what would happen.
“Do you fear me now?” he asked.
I shook my head and chuckled. He knows me so well, so much better than anyone. “I’m not afraid of you, I’m afraid of myself.” He took a step closer. “Don’t forget who I am.” I said.
His lips curved into a smile.
“Don’t forget what they say of me.” I whispered as he stood in front of me. The electricity flowed between our bodies, causing the hair on the back of my neck to stand on end. He brought his thumb to my cheek. Breathe, don’t forget to breathe, I had to remind myself. I inhaled deeply then stepped away from him. It was like pulling my chest out of my body.
He chortled then looked up to the moon. “She knows your real feelings, and she tells me your secrets.”
“I wish she’d do me the same favor.”
His fingers found mine, they interweaved as we both stood staring out the trick the moon played to those who didn’t know her as well as we did.
I learned something, never make a werewolf pack angry, especially because tonight is the Full Moon.
Leave me a comment, tell me if you like this piece of story.