Finding the Source

My muse stood on the edge of the bluff, the ocean crashing and rolling far below her. The wind whipped the snakes in her hair; I could heard them hissing with glee as they crashed into each other like a slithering mosh pit. When I stood beside her, my muse looked at me and grinned.



"Can you feel it?" she asked.



"What?"



"The roar of the world."



She turned back to face the sea, transfixed by the tug and flow of the tide. "It's all here, everything you need to create."



I nodded. "I feel it....