Sunday, July 24, 2011

A distant memory

There was a time when I wrote something every day. Sometimes a short story, often a poem, but always something. Normally, in my head, I paint a picture and the words bring it to life. Just lately though, I seem to have ground to a halt; my daily word-spinning now a distant memory. My muse it appears has wandered off and left me speechless! I even wrote a poem about my muse once; how ungrateful she is. I’m joking of course. To think that some outside force can influence the way you express your thoughts and ideas is preposterous. It is however a very useful excuse when your imagination dries up!

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I wrote the above about an hour ago, sorry for the interruption. I thought I heard someone calling my name. The voice was faint, distant, and almost unreal. I went over to my window; I live opposite a park, and there are always people wandering around. I often stand and watch people feeding the ducks, kids running about and youngsters kicking a ball around scoring goals and cheering in triumph. But when I looked out a moment ago, the park was strangely empty. The water in the lake was still and mirror like. Where were the swans and the ever- swooping sea gulls? The trees and bushes were totally still. No movement, no sound, no sign of life. And then, again, in the distance I heard someone call my name. It was more of a whisper than a shout. There was not a soul in sight.

“Go back to your keyboard” the eerie voice hissed. “Go back, and empty your mind. Relax your hands and let me help you find your way back”.

I won’t deny it; I’d had a couple of drinks over lunch and one or two more when I got home. My immediate thought was to grab a caffeine fix, so I went straight to the kitchen to make a strong cup of coffee. Then I heard the voice again, still distant but a little closer than before. “Come back to your keyboard” it said. “I’m waiting for you”. With that I knocked the cup over and steaming coffee swirled around my feet. I suddenly felt as if I was losing control. Outside I could once again hear the sound of laughter. The ducks were quacking and the breeze was rustling the branches of the trees. I glanced out and the park was it's usual bustling self. I felt myself being drawn towards my desk.

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You are going to think I’m crazy, but I promise you I have no recollection of writing any of that nonsense. But I have to admit that for the first time in ages I actually have a few ideas swimming around in my head. But before I start writing them down I need to see to the kitchen floor which right now must be swimming in spilled coffee! Oh, that’s strange. There is no spilled coffee. I think I need another drink!

The prompt at Sunday Scribblings this week is 'Distant'. At Carry On Tuesday it's ' In my head I paint a picture'.
Illustration, 'Artist and Muse' by Cepums at deviantArt

14 comments:

  1. I for one am glad you're back! Perhaps it took the muse all this time to find her way from your old place....Did you leave her behind? Me thinks so!! lol Have another drink and all shall be fine!!

    Hugs Giggles

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  2. Laughing...I think you might have had one too many of those "laced with something" drinks! ;-)
    I do like your image though.

    Nice one!

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  3. lol everytime I visit you seem to be able to express yourself well and have great fantasy. Good luck with your new ideas

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  4. She is quite a little siren isn't she calling you back at your weakest. I am glad she has snared you again.

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  5. A creative block...not uncommon!!! Listen to your voice....

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  6. If you have found Thália, please send her home. I miss her. http://thepoetsquill.wordpress.com/2011/02/18/sonnet-to-thalia/

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  7. I've been wondering where you were. Sometimes you just have to let yourself be crazy to get the words flowing again. I love the pic you used to illustrate. It can feel like that on hard days. Hard days are the ones that take you to a new level.

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  8. Sometimes you just have to let your inhibitions go to get the writing flowing. A clever little story.

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  9. This was an enjoyable and fun story, and I hope that somehow it really did bring you into a place where you can be more creative. Good luck!

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  10. strange that your 'should be sad' tale simply made me smile. i think i like your muse...

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  11. Keep rambling, Keith: your rambles are better that most people's polished prose.

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