I stormed into my tiny kitchen, all shoddy wood and bright white--an odd combination, but given the nine-to-five kinda life I'd been living till now, it wasn't all that bad. Shrugging, I went to the fridge and yanked out a bottle. If I was going to embark on a life-changing journey I might as well have a tipple just to knock up some courage.
As I raised the bottle to my lips, a floaty, almost translucent voice slipped into my ear: "I wouldn't do that if I were you."
About half of the contents slopped over onto my shirt as I gaped at the woman perched on my counter. She was small and slim, petite, and dressed in a billowy sort of dress most people would call a toga. I thought of it as a bedsheet and pins. Although of course, her features were so strikingly beautiful that she brought it off, the whole ensemble, and looked just like one of those goddess babes you keep hearing about.
"Hello, Dan," she said, hopping off the counter and striding across the floor. When she was about a foot away from me she stopped and smiled. I was too stunned to smile back.
"Hello, Dan," she repeated. "I am your muse."
"You are my--my what?!" I spluttered.
She gave a little giggle. "Your muse, Dan. If you're going to travel the world and write a story or two along the way, you've got to have inspiration."
Copyright 2000 - 2024 21 x 20 Media All rights reserved. This site is property of 21 x 20 Media
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.08 seconds at 2:07am on Dec 29, 2024 via server WEBX1.
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
More by this author