Fiction: Muse

The muses are ghosts, and sometimes they come uninvited.”

-stephen king

Though not all of us is an artist, we all need to be in touch with a muse that teases our sense of wonder and built our crave to life’s next adventure.

Up till now my life is a constant search of a muse. I sometime try  found a muse in a sound. How could i say, I am audial, some particular sound is like a treat to my ears. I like the chopping sound from a cutting board or a sound of dancing finger on qwerty.

Then I search my muse in a smell. An familiar smell that i can sense each morning everytime i open my eyes. It can be the smell of freshly brewed coffee that sneak up into my bed room or the smell of grass with a hint of morning dew. Or call me crazy, but petichor is my favorite.

But eventually, i found my muse as a person. Not a woman like how muse usually described in every literature for centuries. He is a guy that every gesture of him tease my sense of creativity . The sound and smell that used to be my muse, he creates them for me this time.I called him muse-guy, which make him grin when i called him so.  He isn’t much conversationalist. He always just sit there doing nothing, pretend to ignore me – one who continue scratching pen on those paper while stealing glance of him ocassionaly. 

He is my muse guy -my source of inspiration.

He come uninvited.

He leave unnoticed.


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