Unexpected holiday
Can anyone lend me their writing muse? Mine seems to have gone on holiday without so much as a goodbye or a wave.
I want a postcard, muse.
Instead, I am being visited by my muse's stroppy teenage nephew, who adores loud and violent music, and sings it at the most inappropriate time in my head.
So until he buggers off, I will be singing along to Limp Bizkit, and playing air bass. I want my writing muse back - my mind is more peaceful; not punctuated with violent thoughts.
But if you can't beat them, beat them up.
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