So, about a year ago my muse and I had a falling out. Harsh words were spoken, bags were hurriedly packed and then poof, she* was gone. Oh, I figured she would return just as quick, ready to pick right back up. I was, however, completely and utterly wrong. The longer we were apart, the less frequently I thought of her, until, eventually I began to doubt that she had existed at all. Discouraged, I cast the remnants that she had left behind into a drawer, ostensibly to never see the light of day again.
So, it was with some amazement that forces perhaps both natural and un-natural worked in harmony to align the planets and grant me another chance. Out of the blue, I get a text from her, says she’s been bored without a writer to kick around. That may sound inauspicious to you, but to me it sounded like just what I needed to hear. So, while the separation was a bit abrupt, the return will be handled with more care. Unpack one bag, see how it goes.
*in the classical sense, the daughters of Zeus and Mnemosyne – I’m not trying to be sexist here