“What’cha thinkin’?” my muse asked me this morning.
“Clearly, not much.”
“What’cha gonna write?”
I smiled impatiently. “Words. Preferably, lots of them. One after the other; all in a row.”
We stared at each other for a moment. I lifted my cup of coffee to my face, holding it in both hands and hovering over the rim, breathing in the warmth and deep aroma before taking a sip. The cat curled up in her usual place on the back of my chair and began to purr.
“You gonna write copy for coffee ads?”
“For now,” I said, daring Muse to come up with another quip.
Muse just looked away, out the window at the dark and misty morning. As I sat quietly, watching, Muse slowly washed away with the dank mist, leaving me with just my coffee and the cat.
I got up and poured myself another cup.