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O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;
Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills,
For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding,
For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;
Here Captain! dear father!
This arm beneath your head!
It is some dream that on the deck,
You’ve fallen cold and dead.

Monday, March 12, 2007

Because I'm Told to Do So

In the comments on another post I talked about the Muse being slightly upset with me. I must have been a good boy because she just dropped an interesting story bone in my head. Yes. Dark, foreboding, like that dream where you're trying to get someplace and just can't seem to get there. All of it. He he he. Yes, my darling, I'm listening, it is written down. From the ash bed stirs the flame waiting for tinder to ignite.

2 comments:

Todd Wheeler said...

Nice muse. If she starts writing honey-do lists though ... Just saying, stay away from the DIY home centers. ;-)

Steve Buchheit said...

She does that as well. Oh, wait, that's my wife whispering in my ear while I'm asleep. :)

The only "honey-do"s the muse give me are, "Why the (explicative) aren't your writing this story." And then the guilt trip starts. The huffing, the toe tapping, the stares, all until I get it out on paper.