To Muse With A Wolf

So I sit here, my laptop on my...well, lap, a mug of hot chocolate beside me. I'm an author, supposedly a good one. Do all good writers get writers' block as often as I do? I'm not sure. But I have it all the same.

Gazing out my window, trying to find some form of inspiration, but none comes to me. Typing hastily, I realise I'm not typing anything except a load of nonsense not even an illiterate would try to read.

Setting my laptop to one side, I try the 'gazing out my window' trick again. Picking up my mug of hot chocolate, I walk over to my window, perching myself on the window ledge and observing the surroundings. Perhaps just a poem, to fire off my writers' block for the time being. Heck, maybe that would give me some inspiration in itself. Gazing at the moon, I take in my forest surroundings.

Yes, a poem will work.

So I start off, picking my laptop again, humming merrily, when all of a sudden, a movement outside catches my eye. Now I know what you're thinking; I've lost it, haven't I? The slightest movement'll set me off? Well just you wait...

Stopping yet again at my window, I rest my habd on the cold glass, peering outside. There it is again!

Boy did I get a shock then.

The face of a huge wolf suddenly appeared infront of my own. Its unblinking eyes and furry maw, its clod breath on the window pane. I can't have but smile at its beauty. It turns, walking towards a group of other wolves, all of which seem to follow his every move. I assumed that was the Alpha of the pack, and watched, mesmerised as I see them.

They all stand together, and set off into song, howling at the full moon, the heads raised, as their Alpha leads them once again.

I listen to the beautiful sounds, then to my dismay, they part. They leave my view, following their Alpha male.

So they've gone, and I return to my seat. My fingers waver over the keys on my keyboard, and suddenly take life. Stuff the poem, my writers' block is gone, and I know now exactly what I'm about to write about.