Muse

A Story by

One of my earliest pieces. Please enjoy.

Previous Version
This is a previous version of Muse.

Lysa banged her head on the keyboard in irritation. The last sentence of her story now read "The thought had never even nmbjuhhhhh".

The story had seemed like a good idea when she first started it. Now, though, she was barely a paragraph in when she gave it up.

"It was a good idea," a voice said in Lysa's right ear. A small, slightly pudgy fairy-like creature sat on her right shoulder, staring mournfully at the computer screen. She tugged her long blue curls thinking of a way to salvage the story.

"You only think that because you're the one who thought it up, Muse," Lysa sighed. The creature hovered in front of her face, an exasperated expression on her face.

"For one, you're the one always complaining about how you never have story ideas. And how many times must I tell you that my name is Inspiria, not Muse. How would you like it if I simply called you 'human'?"

"Yeah, yeah," Lysa closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"It's really very upsetting, Lysa Anne."

"Muse."

"Lysa Anne!"

Finally, Muse gave up for the time being and returned to Lysa's shoulder, thinking up new ideas. Lysa opened her eyes again to meet a pair of dull, gray eyes with a very unimpressed expression.

"Shut up, Writer's Block!" she yelled, hoping he would flinch back. As usual, he didn't.

"He didn't say anything..." Muse said slowly, looking from around Lysa's neck to peer at the dusty-blond boy staring at Lysa.

"He never does!" the girl yelled, bashing her head on the keyboard once more, nearly hitting Writer's Block with her face and jolting Muse off her shoulder.

"You'll loose braincells that way," Muse warned, readjusting herself. Lysa's head collided with the keys again in response. Writer's Block circled her head slowly, like a ghost trying to haunt someone. Lysa's hand half-heartedly batted him away. She raised her head off the keyboard long enough to look up at the clock on her computer screen. 11:10 PM. With nothing else to do, Lysa got up, looking defeated, and shuffled to her room. Muse followed, concerned. Writer's Block trailed behind, eyes closed, as if he was content.

Lysa tugged on her pajamas, turned down the bed, and shut off her light. As she crawled into bed, Muse inched herself closer to her master's ear.

"Lysa Anne, I thought of something! Why don't you write a story about Writer's Block and I?"

The response was sleepily mumbled through a pillow: "You wish..."

© 2011

Featured Review

This story made me laugh. I can definitely relate.
Its nice, short, and entertaining; you don't need a lot of background to understand what's going on.

This is just my opinion, but I feel that the description of the character's appearance is unnecessary, and may even take away from the style of your story.

My favorite character is indefinitely Writer's Block. He and I are tight.