It’s always the little things that remind you what you love about something or someone. Your kids give you a hug at just the moment you need it. Your wife laughs at one of the three jokes that you’ve had on rotation for a decade.
Or maybe your storytelling muse throws you a lifeline at the end of a week you’ve spent creatively and mentally drowning.
I had no intention to write tonight. I’ve spent far too many hours in front of a computer screen for work reasons this week already. I just fired up the Mac so I could:-
– peruse the Planet Rugby prediction for Wales v France (France by 3. Really?)
– check in on the Literally Stories forum for pressing editor-type-stuff
– generally twat about on t’internet.
And yet, several hours later I’ve done all that and knocked together a story. What were the chances?
I’m so thrilled I might burst into poetry at any moment…
O Muse thou art a fickle one
That hides away the stream
Of thought until you trickle one
Like literary cream
On unsuspecting brain and mind
You plant your magic seed
And let me help it grow and bind
To thought, and word, indeed
Yea verily and forasmuch!
Thine thingy thing-thing stuff
To quote owl from Winnie the Pooh, “Enough of this infernal folderol!”
Happy weekend people.