Musings with the Muse

“So…”

“So?”

“The New Year’s almost upon us.”

“Ah, the New Year, yes. Got a lot of plans for it, I have, old thing”.

“And where do I come in those plans?”

“You, you my love, are the most important part of it. You shall take center stage! You shall have a year for the ages!”

“You said that at the start of this year as well”.

“I did, didn’t I? Well, you know, things happened, and there was stuff to do, and then there was that exam, and then that one, and then some more work, followed by even more work, coupled with my constant existentialist crisis. Things got a little out of hand, y’know that, old thing”.

“…Things got out of hand?”

“Erm, yes…?”

“And you call me the most important thing in your life?”

“I do! I do! I swear it by the Old Gods! I swear it by the power of Time itself. You’re the only one for me. No other passion is as strong, no other love burns as fierce.”

“I don’t believe you. And I plan to leave you”.

“Wai-what? You plan to leave me? But I’m nothing without you. Without you I’m incomplete. Without you life is an excruciating agony of listless mundanity. Please don’t leave me, I’ve pledged my soul to you, you know that, my love”.

“I know you’ve said that, but I’ve never seen proof of that. Your devotion is as empty as your words”.

“Do not be so cold, O Light of my Heart. Do not be angry on this old chap. I’ll do anything to assuage your anger, and prove the strength of my passion”.

“Anything?”

“Anything!”

“Then save our sons and daughters and our world”.

“Save them?”

“Yes, save them. Be their voice, tell their story. Do not let them fall unwitnessed. Do not let them fade from Time and Memory. Bring Him down from the Blood Moon. Reconcile Gramps with his grandson. Release Drake. Release the Old Gods. Bring down the Apocalypse, let the Cults run riot. Let the Chained Daemons walk free once again, unleash death and destruction…And then save them all. Save the world. Save our children. Write the book. Write their story.”

“Write…”

“Yes, write. Let words flow through the inky river of blood and sweat and emotion. Write.”

“Write…indeed. It shall be as you will, my love. The stories will be completed. The books will be written. The tales shall be immortalized, and the world will be saved.”

“And that is all I have ever asked, my love. Go now, may your quill move fast as a falcon, and your imagination run wild and free as a Dragon unleashed”.

“It shall be as you wish, O Muse o’mine”.

“Thank you, my love.”

“No, thank you, old thing. For now, and forevermore, thank you”.

 

-Fin-

*****

 

P.S. – Yes, that is what happens when your muse gets angry with you ignoring your writing and your stories.

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