Her return
Entering my study, determined to finally get my latest novel started, I stopped dead. Stretched out on the rug in front of the fire and wearing nothing more than a g-string, bra and pair of glasses was a woman I'd never seen before. Holding a pencil seductively between her lips she looked up at me, smiled, and let one of her bra straps fall.
“Who the fuck are you?”
“You know exactly who I am, Damon,” she whispered. “I'm your muse and I'm always with you, or at least I used to be until you stopped writing.”
©JSMorbius
