Cavebear is sitting at the computer, reading posts, as usual. Suddenly a familiar "ding" comes from the ceiling lamp. It's not just a bulb burning out, it's his Muse making her personal presence known.
"Muse, would you please stop eating the bulb filaments when you show up? I mean, it's counter-productive. I have to replace too many bulbs, and besides, my eyesight is going. I know it's just a blink of a mortal eye to you, but I'm getting too old for this".
"Cavey" (oh man, I hate that wheedle in her voice, it means something new), "this time I want you to write about me". "You?" (I say stupidly; it is crystal-clear-cold like an icicle through the foot). "Yes", she purrs, "it is time for us to renew our contract; read the small print".
I read the small print, hurriedly: "Party of the first part", party of the second part", "Muse" "cavebear", etc. Seemed normal, but then my eyes fell on a strange phrase. I asked Muse "party of the 3rd * negative 'i' meant". Knowing my Muse, I wasn't going to like this one bit. Sure enough, it seemed that what I got from my Muse, she got from someone else, and that "someone else" wanted a raise in pay. This did not sound good!
"So", I said casually, "what does Mr X want from me"? Muse just smiled, "Nothing you can't afford to pay", she stated thriftily; "Just a little extra that the Master really wants". Well, I wasn't born yesterday. I demanded specifics (and Muse whispered in my ear
)
Oh the ignominy of it all! I have to admit that the cost *is* truly small. Muses (and Muse Masters) don't really pay attention to currency anyway. They live on a different plane. It isn't money that drives them, it is those little creature comforts that we humans don't quite understand
There is a creature that is not quite of this world that demands milk as payment for service. I think they were called "kobolds" or something like that. Anyway, in my case, I put down the small saucer of milk, as instructed by my Muse, and I backed away carefully. Instantly, LC the cat ("Little Cow") ran up to it and started to drink. As I started to shoo her away, she sat up and smiled at me.
Cat's don't smile.
And I stopped the "shooing" motion immediately...
LC finished off the bowl of milk, and she returned to her spot on the table next to my computer. "How odd", I thought, "LC is always there when I am writing some fan-fic, yet my Muse leaves after I get the original idea". Hmmm
I have the vague feeling that my contract with the Muse has been renewed
Through a " negative 'i' party", of course. I may start buying a better brand of catfood, too.
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