Imagine

There was a murder, and Jood was innocent. The judge, however, felt the evidence was overwhelming. After a trial spanning the expanse of a year, the verdict had finally been placed, and this did not bode well for this especially energetic muse. As the gavel fell, he found himself going grey, unable to hold his color from the shock. The poor little sprite didn’t even notice the two blockers, in their grey clothes and absent faces, dragging him off to the Pit of Discouragement.
The Pit of Discouragement was, for lack of a better word, discouraging. One lonely door was the entrance and exit. The room was a perfect cube 7’x7’x7’ covered completely grey. Complete lack of window prevented any muse from becoming enervated and using the power and excitement from the world around. It was the first step to the stripping of his power.
It terrified Jood to the bone.
He clutched his silver pen to his chest, holding on to the only thing that he valued.
A muse without his power, his inspiration, was nothing. He would turn into a dull zombie and be sent into the mortal realm to become a boring nothing. It was said that this was the worst fate that could be given to a muse. That being said, nobody really knew or, if they had any idea, would say what it would be like.
“What am I kidding,” Jood said to himself.
There were a million literary muses. He being out of commission would be something nobody would blink an eye at. He sighed and thought more about what had gotten him into this mess in the first place.
As mentioned, Jood was innocent, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t done something wrong.
Jood had fallen in love, which was forbidden.
The little muse sighed again and tried not to remember the events over the past year. He didn’t have to suffer long, because the blockers had returned. Their faceless, grey heads faced stoically forward as they laid the way for the head of the justice muses, Mr. Muster.
Mr. Muster’s bright orange moustache moved as he spoke. “You, sir, are incomprehensible. Not only do you have the audacity to go against our greatest custom, but you betray my personal trust and destroy your partner, the greatest crime that we have.”
Jood looked at his feet and fought back the tears that struggled to make their way out.
The large Mr. Muster seemed to understand a certain change in Jood and spoke again with compassion. “I hate to do this, Jood, but you murdered the one you love.”
With a deep breath, Jood faced the large Mr. Muster and, simultaneously, his sentence. “Mr. Muster, I’m ready. Do what you must. You’ve seen the trial and must now follow through with the deed.”
The large general nodded gravely to Jood, then stood to his full, intimidating height. “Jood, muse of the literary art, I will now take your totem.” He held out his hand, which was even larger than one might expect.
Defeated, Jood hung his head and placed his perfect silver pen in the outlaid hand of the giant and felt the beginnings of his inspiration draining away from him.
The giant, orange haired muse dutifully turned to the blockers and placed Jood’s pen in the unassuming box one of them was holding. As soon as the box was sealed, the sad little muse felt the rest of his inspiration flow out of him. His once vibrant green hair turned to dull gray and he felt his motivation for doing anything simply disperse into the atmosphere. A long, unenthusiastic sigh solidified the transaction and Jood sat back down.
Mr. Muster’s face showed the expression of somebody who was truly concerned for the other in front of him. “Come on, Jood. You can’t stay here.”
The former muse looked up with a blank expression. “Do I have to? I don’t really feel like it right now.”
The giant justice muse didn’t say anything, but directed the inexpressive blockers to take Jood away. They each took an arm of the little muse and followed Mr. Muster out of the Pit of Discouragement.
Muster didn’t like the blockers. To be honest, they gave him the willies. Grey, with no faces, and absolutely no individuality, they were as useful to a muse as a baseball would be to a tree. It was the thing about his job that the otherwise strong and confident muse absolutely loathed. His disdain only grew as he followed the blockers outside the building to the Great Abyss.
The powerless muse felt nothing as he felt the cold breeze from below swept up to say hello. Mr. Muster closed his eyes as the two blockers unceremoniously tossed Jood off the edge, and he quietly said his goodbyes. Jood had been a friend.
The little muse closed his eyes as he fell into the cold and darkness, forgetting everything that came before and indifferent to what lay ahead.


Three good friends concentrated as hard as they could to send their love to someone who could help he who had been unjustly accused. It was even harder to them than when they first learned to commune with the mortal realm.
I started with a rainbow of color and white noise. The color slowly consolidated into one single stream of color. The white noise slowly moved closer and closer and closer to a melody. The color became even more defined into a moving symphony of perfectly tuned notes to the color that matched.
Each friend focused solely on Jood as they searched for the perfect marriage of color and melody to help. All three felt the life force of each other and experienced the next best thing to nirvana.
Then they found it and planted the seed that would ultimately save their friend. With their last bits of concentration, they sent a message in the form of a song they knew that Jood would be sure to be drawn to; a part of each of their souls that he would never be able to forget.


“You’ve sold out, Pepper,” announced an increasingly angry Prudy.
“So what if I have,” the salty band leader retorted. “Me and the Lonely Hearts are going places. Being ‘true to your roots’ doesn’t make money, Prudy. You of all people should know that.”
“Well, at least I’m not writing songs about boyfriends after I’ve already been married.”
Pepper folded her arms under her breasts in response.
“You have a nice career with the ‘Lonely Hearts’.” Prudy stormed out of the auditorium against a group of excited fans. Several of which tried to stop her and procure an autograph. She gave each and every one her best sneer.
Starting as an edgy, alternative band, the Lonely Hearts had moved into the pop music genre. It made Prudy sick. She found a nice, secluded alleyway to sneak a cigarette before she made her way back to the small house she shared. The small break would give her time to calm down, and stopping right now would give her time to hide the smell of smoke before she got back.
She savored every delicious puff as she felt her mind calm and the events of the past couple years washed over her. Two years ago, she was excited and enthusiastic for what was to come. He relationship Zach had been new, things had just been winding up with her best friend at the time, Pepper, and Prudy had more or less been happy. Sure, money had been tight, but all Prudy felt she needed for sustenance was her art. Nothing satisfied her as much as being part of creating a song. Sharing her soul made her feel more alive than any bit of food or caffeine could.
About the only thing better was a cigarette.
She dwelled on this thought as she took another long drag. Nothing tasted better.Prudy took in her surroundings as she continued to enjoy one of her several guilty pleasures. It was about as typical as any alley got. Garbage cans sat against the wall, filled to the brim and attracting unsanitary rats. Something moved underneath a slew of scattered newspapers. It could have been another rat, or a homeless person down for an afternoon nap. Prudy didn’t want to know or care.
Nevertheless, she felt herself inspired to start writing. This kind of situation was exactly what Prudy wanted. Being an artist wasn’t supposed to be clean, pretty, or nice. Almost everyone she knew came from roots where you would regularly find yourself sneaking a cigarette in a dirty alley. The last of her cigarette disappeared and Prudy begrudgingly flung the butt away from her. She could already feel the itch of the next cigarette as she brought her guitar from around her back so she could take it out of its case.
Whenever Prudy got inspiration, she immediately had to start playing, which is what she did as she walked to the bus stop. The chords came out easier to her than breathing, and she felt herself slip into that special place of creation where everything else went away and it was only her and her guitar. People stopped and listened with calm faces as she walked down the street. But that didn’t matter. Prudy was creating, and it was a form of euphoria that no person, boyfriend, or even cigarette could give her.
Before she knew what was happening around her, Prudy found herself outside her house. She sneered as she walked inside. The familiar smell of home hit her and she couldn’t help but smile.
“Hey, guys,” she announced. “I’m back.”
Nobody answered.
“It’s been kind of a shitty day.”
Silence.
She shrugged and plopped down on the beaten up couch to continue creating.
Several hours later, and a nearly completed song, footsteps and voices drifted in from the front door. Prudy put her guitar back in her case and put on her best defiant face.
Her three laughing roommates stumbled through the door.
After a few minutes of laughing, they finally noticed the obstinate Prudy with her arms folded and face in a stone-like gaze.
“Hey Prudy,” said Lisa. “Where were you tonight.” She could hardly contain another giggle that threatened to pop out.
Jeff looked at her, concerned. “Yeah, Babe. Pepper said you walked out on her earlier today.”
Prudy continued to stare.
An awkward silence filled the room as all were afraid to say something that would only put her in a worse mood.
Finally, Prudy spoke. “You went to the show.”
The three nodded.
“And when you saw I wasn’t there, you just stayed and watched. Didn’t even try to come see what was going on with me.”
“We tried to call you, but it went right to voicemail.”
Prudy checked her phone, which had died from low battery. She threw it across the room.
Jeff came to sit next to her on the couch. “Look, babe, I care about you. We all do.” He wrapped his arm around behind her back.
“So you stay to watch the show when I’m not there and you don’t know where I am.” She looked at the clock to get a sense of timing. “And based on how late you guys are. You stayed out with Pepper and the band afterward before coming home.”
Jeff sighed. “Look, Prudy, the Lonely Hearts are doing better than they ever have. Every concert they’ve had in the past month has been sold out and the deals just keep coming. I don’t understand why you’ve had such a problem with them.”
Prudy threw her hands up. “It’s all fake, Jeff. You’re a writer. You’ve told me yourself that what you write should come from the heart. Pepper’s sold out.”
Jeff smiled. “You know, I love you.” He leaned in and kissed her, then pulled back more quickly than normal. “I thought you quit smoking.”
That was the last Pepper could take. She jumped up with her guitar. “You know what? I’m getting out of here. Find yourself another roommate. I’m going somewhere I can finally be myself and someone will understand.”
“Stop being such a child, Prudy,” said Jeff, “You don’t have anywhere to go.”
“Anywhere is better than this shithole.”
Jeff moved in front of the door. “You leave here, Prudy, and we’re done. Not just as a couple either. Don’t come running to me again when your brilliant idea blows up in your face.”
Prudy stared and pushed past him through the door.
A pouring rain started before she even left the sidewalk.


This world was already mean and strange, and now Jood was getting wet. He didn’t know where to go, and all the streets were full of strange people that didn’t talk to him when he tried to ask them what he was supposed to do.
He didn’t remember what he had done before, but he knew that none of what he saw was familiar. He also knew that there was a pit in his stomach that kept growing. After he heard music in the alley which he was hiding, he had followed the strange girl a while, but that hadn’t given him any help either.
The only thing he knew to do was to stay away from the bright-lighted vehicles and find some way to stay warm, which was becoming increasingly difficult with the sudden downpour.
A tall woman walked past him on the street. “Excuse me, ma’am, is there any way you could help me?”
The woman gave him an angry stare and walked quickly away.
Jood didn’t know what to do, where he was, or how to get any help. Nobody seemed to really care, either. To be honest, Jood himself didn’t really care. The only thing keeping him going was the gnawing feeling that it seemed the sensible thing to do.
After walking for an unknown period of time, Jood came upon a bench that looked extremely inviting to him, so Jood laid down on the bench to sleep for the first time in his existence.
Jood’s dreams consisted of a multitude of meaningless images that only made him upset and didn’t seem to solve any of his problems in the least. He seemed to feel someone was chasing him, or it was possible he was trying to run to somewhere. He was able to determine that, at least, he was trying to find something he had lost. It was all very vague and confusing.
He remembered none of it by the time he awoke, still soggy, on the hard bench.
Jood decided that this sleeping thing was not a good idea, or very useful, so he decided to get up and move around.
He walked around the whole city, being ignored by most of the people he encountered, but didn’t really care. The pit in his stomach only proved to get bigger and bigger the longer that the day went on. Finally, he found himself in a park, which was the most pleasant place he had been all day. Everyone in the park seemed to be having a pleasant time. Children ran free and played with each other while adults enjoyed themselves without any worries.
The sound of a saxophone awoke something in Jood that he hadn’t realized he had, so he decided to walk closer. Jood closed his eyes, and could see colors dance across his vision in time to the music. It was the most excited and alive he had felt since he had come to realize he was in the city.
A few seconds later he heard an even more wonderful sound that consisted of an intricate guitar piece.
He walked over to the dark-clothed girl playing the guitar. She looked up at him with disdain. “What do you want?”
“You can help me. I saw you yesterday.”
Prudy didn’t know who this was talking to him and was confused, but oddly not afraid of the small gray man that had just come up to her. “Listen. I’m just trying to figure out my life. Unless you got some kind of proposal for something that’ll make things better for me right now, kindly go away.”
Jood couldn’t stop thinking about the guitar. “Do you mind if I play it some?”
Prudy begrudgingly held out her guitar. “Give it back. Don’t break it.”
It was her only guitar, and her prized possession. She wasn’t sure what had compelled her to give it up. One thing she did know, however, is that she trusted the small gray man in front of her.
Jood began to play. It reminded Prudy of everything she ever had wanted to say in a song and more. It was the song she knew by heart even though she had just heard it in that instant, and reminded her of being young and even stupider than she was at present. Nothing mattered. She knew everything would be okay. The little gray man stopped playing, and Prudy realized she had closed her eyes. With a frown, she opened her eyes again.
They were no longer in the small city park.
Prudy gasped when she saw the large meadow in front of her.
It was the realization of the perfect day for a picnic. Flowers peppered the meadow and attracted multitudes of butterflies and other exotic insects. Less than feet in front of them, one small sat rabbit happily chomping on clover. The sweet smell of fruit filled the air. Prudy could almost place what the smell was, but something was out of context.
Jood sat in the field, no more enthusiastic than he had been a few minutes ago in the park.
“Did you do this?” Prudy asked in wonderment.
The small gray man just looked at her as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.
Prudy stood up and started walking around. “This is amazing! I mean, I have no idea where I am, but this is the most amazing thing I have ever seen.” She basked a few more minutes in the sun.
“I need to find what I’ve lost.” Jood said flatly.
Prudy looked at him with a smile. “No problem, Buddy. Hey, I’m in kind of a transition point myself. I think it would be good for me to go on a vacation. Where to now?”
Jood just shrugged.
Despite the excitement, Prudy was beginning to get a little frustrated with the odd little man she had just met. He was about the best thing for inspiration she had ever met, but was as dull as a hundred-year-old saw.
She sat down next to him while she decided what she wanted to do next.
In the silence, various birds and animals brushed past them on their way to more exiting and important business.
“What’s it you lost?” Prudy asked eventually.
Jood shrugged.
“Listen, I'm Prudy." She held out her hand and Jood just stared at her until she uncomfortably retracted. "What’s your name?”
He started to answer, but came up blank just as he was about to remember his name. “I think it rhymed with Mood. I'm a muse.”
"A muse?"
The little grey man nodded.
Prudy was starting to get frustrated with this gray man who didn't seem to know anything. She folded her arms. "Well, Moody," she decided, "let's figure out what kind of place you've brought us do."
"Place?" Jood knew that were they were was unlike any place he had ever been and unlike any place this Prudy person had ever been, but couldn't in down exactly why he knew this.
Prudy have him a dull look. "Yeah, place." She rolled her eyes and decided to get up and start exploring the area. She had never really ever been outside of the city. The fresh air and open grass energized her to the point she felt almost giddy.
She was brought out of her thoughts when something squishy squirted underneath her chucks. Upon further investigation, she realized she had just stepped on a small strawberry plant. After a closer look, Prudy realized strawberry bushes were dispersed around the whole clearing. Some were small, like the one she stepped on, but others were clear, giant bushes that had the reddest strawberries she had ever seen.
The nine-year-old girl inside her bubbled out through a big smile. "Hey, Moody," she announced. "This is a whole field of strawberries, isn't it?"
Jood just shrugged.
It reminded Prudy of a recurring dream she had, where she was in a field much like the one she was at present. This was her freedom, her happy place, her inspiration.
The little gray ex-muse was puzzled at Prudy's excitement. To him, this was something very familiar and every day that he felt there wasn't really anything to be excited about at all. Then again, nothing had felt very exciting to him. The only thing that even seemed remotely important was the nagging feeling that he was missing something that he wanted to find.
He decided to investigate the wonderful field himself as the odd girl wallowed in her bliss. The smell of the small red fruit filled the air as he walked toward the tree line on the opposite side. It was indeed a pleasant day, but Jood was not sure how to feel about it.
One thing he did have a feeling about, however, was the large hill that loomed to his left.
There was something oddly familiar about it, but Jood couldn’t remember anything of significance. It made sense that he should feel more concerned about his past and not knowing, but that is not how he felt. Instead, Jood felt an odd sense of contentment and feeling comfortable.
“You shouldn’t get comfortable, you know,” said a voice in the trees.
A man with a long beard stared down from the trees.
Jood stared back.
“Aren’t you going to ask me who I am and what I’m doing here?” The man looked puzzled.
There was no reason to. Jood shook his head.
The old man laughed. “Would it matter if I knew how to find what you’re looking for?”
This vaguely peaked Jood’s interest. “What I’m looking for?”
The old man winked. “What you’ve lost.”
Jood started to talk, but the man interrupted. “You see, I know quite a lot. I know the sky is purple and that up is down. I also know that the fastest way to get to where you’re going is a circle, and that chewing bubble gum will indeed help you solve a math problem. However, nobody seems to ever think I’ve got anything important to say.”
The man wasn’t making much sense to Jood, which made it difficult to respond.
The old man laughed. “Never you mind. Just follow that road over there and I’ll go back to my home.”
An opening in the tree line appeared where there wasn’t one before.
The old man tipped his hat. “Safe journey. If you need, just call. I’ll be watching.” He took gave Jood a golden coin with a banana on it. "Keep that hidden." The man winked. "And remember, you are the eggman and you'll need a tres bien ensemble." He started to go back off in the trees, but stopped short. “Oh, and make sure your friend comes with. The field can be very difficult to leave sometimes.” The odd man disappeared into the trees.
Jood realized that he did not even know that man’s name, which would make it hard to “just call” for the man, but that was no matter. He figured he would know what to do if that time came.

Prudy was lying in the clearing soaking in the bliss. She would be content to stay there forever. In all actuality, She didn’t even have anybody to go back to. That stupid boyfriend and roommates never really cared about her anyway. Prudy couldn’t even remember their names and didn’t care. Her old life felt like it had happened millennia ago. How long had it been? A day? A year?
The wonderful thoughts of bliss were interrupted by an a annoying voice. “We have to go.” The voice was calm, despite the urgency that the words implied.
Prudy kept her eyes closed and brushed at the air, annoyed.
The annoying one pulled at her foot. She kicked at it to push it away.
“Leave me alone, Pest.”
“This place isn’t safe. I think I’ve been here before.”
“What do you mean, Pest? It’s the most comfortable I’ve ever been.” She covered her eyes with her face.
“Living is easy with eyes closed.”
Prudy couldn’t help but make the strain to open her eyes and look at the pest who was bothering her. “You better give credit to whoever made up that line before they sue you.”
The odd little pest just stared at her calmly.
The silence was worse than the pestering voice. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean anyway?”
He continued to stare and say nothing. His little, annoying elf clothes moved in the slight breeze and his grey hair became more disheveled.
Prudy found the energy to sit up and lean back on her hands. “Well fucking say something. Will you!?”
“I don’t think I have to,” Jood said in contrary. “You know this is fake.”
The bold faced lies and deceit brought Prudy to her feet where she could tower over the stupid elf. “Like hell it is! I love it here and will never leave.”
A smile broke on Jood, the first he could remember. “What will you play?”
Prudy stopped dead in her tracks. “Excuse me, Nerd? What?”
The smile widened. “You heard me. I’m leaving with your guitar, so what will you play?”
After a small look around, Prudy realized she no longer held her guitar and that, somehow unknown to her, it was now proudly resting on the back of the annoying little Troll’s back. She screwed up her face and lunged. “Give me back my guitar, you little prick!”
The annoying imp ran, laughing and screaming, to the opening the strange old man had shown him. The angry goth girl followed on his heals, ready for murder. Neither one stopped until a few yards into the path where they both collided.
Murder burned behind Prudy’s eyes. “You little shit! I’ll kill you!”
She started to throw a punch, but was interrupted once more by the annoying voice. “Look behind you!”
The idiotic troll could wait a few more seconds to die, so she humored him. When she looked back she did not see the wonderful field of strawberries that she had left.
Instead, it was a scene of death.
Replacing the sweet, fragrant plants were bodies in varying stages of decay. A good portion was too far gone to be recognizable as anything close to what it once was. Few more were recognizable as human shaped, but had decayed beyond the ability for recognition. In the smallest group, Prudy could see the expressions of those dead. Each face had a look of peace and serenity. Under closer observation, it was clear that every body, whether identifiable or not, was in a position of complete relaxation and resignation. Some appeared to have laid down for a nap. Others were basking in the sunlight.
“They all decided to stay,” said the little troll.
She turned back to look at him, still underneath her and ready to be beaten. His face was unnaturally calm.
“None of them wanted to go either,” he said with an unnatural calm and lack of emotion.
A putrid smell of an unimaginable proportion hit Prudy’s face when she turned back to the field. She thought the fragrant strawberry smell she had experienced when still inside the smell.
Upon further thought, she moved off the moody little devil and vomited in the brush along the path.
“Still want to stay in the field?”
Prudy sneered, wiped the puke from off her face, and grabbed back her guitar. “You win, Shithead.”