My Muse calls on me at the most inconvenient times. Yet its playful presence is scarce when I'm staring at a clean page or blank computer screen.
Sound asleep at 2 am, a story begins to write itself. I try to ignore the characters as they begin to march across my dreams. I toss and turn but the story persists.
Finally giving in to curiosity and guilt, I stumble to my computer, wait for it to wake grumpily as its peaceful "offness" is interrupted.
The story continues to write itself taking me to unheard of places fraught with characters, conflict, and redemption. Colors, smells, and voices swirl in my mind.
Now I'm wide awake, creative juices flowing, fingers flying over the keys. The story emerges with folk as real as my neighbors and just as complicated.
At 4 am, I give a perfect twist to the ending.
My Muse, at last satisfied, moves on--sprinkling inspiration into the unsuspecting dreams of another unwary writer.