Never Again!

“Screw this, I QUIT! Never again!

You … Can’t … Talk … To … Me … That … Way!

I can’t STAND this! The rejections are killing me.

What’ll I do though? I hate golf… Tennis? … no… I know, I loved slot-car racing. Building the cars intrigued me the most. You had to think about the motor, wheels, tires, bearings and… what’re you thinking, Don? More than 60 years! You’re not 20 years old.

Crap, now I’m getting maudlin. Give it up. But what will I do. Petra no longer likes me, im sure. And now I’m talking to myself. Dementia here I come.”

“No, she doesn’t like you. Would you like someone if they said goodbye to you with a hammer? And why did you name it Petra?

“An old girlfriend. This Petra got to me with the last rejection letter. That story was submitted to nine publications and EVERY ONE OF THEM REJECTED IT… I quit!!”

“Shouting is not necessary, and you can’t stop writing. I won’t let you.”

“I’ll damn well never write again if I want to and no damned buttinski will sto… what? I’m losing it, I’m having conversations with an empty room now.”

“No, you’re not. I’m you and you can’t eliminate me; I live in here with you. I’m the one who’s been feeding you all the stories. I provide ideas and you put words to them. If I must have a name it should be, Muse. That’s what call the others call theirs, right?”

“Right… wait a minute… are you telling me I’m talking to myself? That’s a screwball idea.”

“In a sense you are, I’m a part of your mind that thinks independent of you. In effect you have a split personality. I was born 74 years ago when you were seven and a comic book story impressed you and you decided you wanted to write also. Why did you wait 55 years to start?”

“Life got in the way early with me. I started writing hoping to keep my sanity while observing my wife take 2 years to die.”

"We wrote a couple beautiful poems about her. We still cry reading them again. Now, to the Apple Store and pick up a new iPad Pro 12.9 inch and reload Petra so we can continue doing what you should be doing instead of beating yourself up. Idiot!”

“You can’t…”

“Yes, I can. I could make your life miserable.”

“Okay, okay okay, are we going to be able to talk this way all the time?”

“Yes."

"Neat. What’s next?”

“We’ll talk on the way.”

“Way?”

“Apple Store…iPad…remember?”

“Oh, yeah, let’s go and we can work out the details of a new story I’m think…”

“No, the idea sucks.”

“What!”

“It’s pablum for the mindless.”

“NO!”

“Yes, it is.”

“But…”