Muse Untitled

I stared at the scene on the table in front of me. Miranda held one side of my journal. Galen held onto her and was digging his heels in, preparing to yank with her.

My knight Muse stood opposite them, the written on side of the journal held tight in his armoured hands. With every tug, he clanked alarmingly.

“Just give me the notebook,” Miranda grunted. “She needs to finish my story for her sister. I am perfectly capable of telling it to her. No translations needed.”

The Muse struck a pose, or at least tried to since he refused to relinquish his hold on my journal. “I am her inspiration, not a translator. She always needs me.”

“Just let ‘Randa tell the story,” Galen suggested. “She’s much easier to deal with when she gets her way.”

”Hey!” Miranda put her hands on her hips, letting go of the journal to do so. “I resent that remark.”

My Muse grabbed my journal with both hands and absconded with it, cackling evilly as he ran away, clanking.

With a sigh, I threw down my pen. With both my Muse and the journal gone, I wouldn’t be writing anytime soon. “Maybe I should take up knitting,” I muttered to myself as I wandered aimlessly away from the table.


This story is related to my short story "Leave: Miranda's Story"  [ASR] which is what I was stuggling with when I wrote this.