I continued to stare at the blank Microsoft document on my laptop screen. I have been staring at it for a long time now. I am stumped. I do not know what else to write or how to start or where to start.
“This is frustrating!” I almost screamed to an empty room when a sudden radiance filled my room. I squinted my eyes and noted a figure – a him.
“God?” I asked.
“Nope.”
I noted the all-white get up and then said, “My guardian angel?”
“Are you fucking kidding me? Do I look like a guardian angel to you? Look, no feather wings!” He made a half turn so I could see that he had a no wings on his back.
I raised an eyebrow and noted the absence of a wand. “I doubt you are my fairy godmother.”
“Well, I wanted to be one, but I failed the flight test and my poof didn’t sound like a poof at all but a loud BANG! They suggested I seek other options.” He said wistfully.
“A male fairy godmother?”
“Oh don’t be judgmental! It is an in-thing nowadays, you know.”
“I think I had too much coffee… I’m beginning to imagine things.” I said as I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. I flicked my eyes open and he’s still there.
“Still think you’re imagining me?”
“Who are you?”
“I’m your muse.”
“Muse?”
“Yes, muse. A guiding spirit. A source of inspiration.” When he noted that I didn’t look so convinced, he added “I know I don’t look the part, but I should let you know that I have inspired a lot of great writers!”
“And you are my muse?”
“Why do you think that is so hard to believe? You wrote Back to Black – I supplied the elevator scene. It’s one of your best works, isn’t it? I believe you got praises for that.”
“So that was all you?”
“Oh no sweetie… It is all you. I just guide you in the right direction. I help writers like you.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Go ahead.”
“Why did I choose erotica?”
“Oh, I didn’t have any part with that my dear. It was your own choice. You wanted to write again and you chose that field so to speak.”
I shrugged. “Just wanted to know what it would be like and if I would be able to do it.”
“What is it that you always keep saying? You have an overactive mind? And it’s not as if you have a lot of experience because quite frankly I don’t think you do. And for someone who hasn’t had any lately, you write good sex scenes.”
“Hah! Was that an insult?”
He laughed. “Oh no, my dear. That was just a comment. Hmmnnn… You are short-tempered! Is it the time of the month again? Are you ovulating?”
I laughed. I must be crazy. I had to remember what I ate earlier. Or it could be something I drank too. Is this food poisoning? Are hallucinations part of the symptoms of food poisoning?
“Seriously, DDD… May I call you DDD? That’s what your readers call you, right? Seriously DDD, why the self-preservation? What is up with that? It’s not as if you are saving yourself for someone because you don’t have anyone in your life right now!”
“But what about —” I started to say but my muse cut me off.
“You know he doesn’t count. Are you sure he even likes you?”
“He said —”
“Yeah. Yeah. I know what you are going to say. You had a moment or two and you felt a connection. And no, he still doesn’t count.”
“Would getting laid make me write better?”
“Maybe. If not, it will make you less bitchy. Heed my advice.”
I hardly was able to finish a reply when the radiance burst (again) and dissipated.
Damn! I need sleep.