Here’s a story from last year entitled Me and My Muse. I hope you enjoy it.
Eric laid splayed across the Queen sized bed. He sought some measure of comfort in the oppressive heat, and while the fan blowing upon him offered a tiny solace from the humidity, he was ultimately uncomfortable. Laying motionless and naked, sweat
still dripped across his forehead.
“Why don’t you get up?” asked the sweet voiced Myrian.
“Leave me alone today. No writing, no drawing. The only thing on the schedule for today is sweating.” replied Eric.
“How are you supposed to achieve anything with that attitude?” asked Myrian who stepped upon the bed with her cloven hooves. Standing over Eric, she pointed at
him saying, “You want to get out of this hole, don’t you?”
“I’d like to,” replied Eric, “but not today. It is too hot.”
“It’s not just the heat that’s bothering you, is it?” asked Myrian as she lowered herself on top of Eric’s stomach. Eric looked up at her delicate features and studied her long, twisted horns.
“You miss her, don’t you?” Myrian questioned.
“I do and I don’t. I like being alone, but I miss having her here when I need her.”
“You mean to say that you want to have a living slab of meat to be at your sexual mercy at all times, right?”
“Myrian, when you say it like that, you make it seem so wrong.” replied Eric lightly. Myrian laid down next to Eric with one of her arms draped over him. She rested her head on his shoulder and kissed him softly on the cheek.
“Why don’t you take her place?” Myrian smiled at Eric’s question and ran her fingers across his chest.
“People aren’t my bag.” she replied with a laugh as she leapt from the bed.
“Do you have someone else?” asked Eric.
“Someone else? Yes, I do. He’s big and strong, and not lazy. So get out of bed and you can be more like my ideal man.”
“But I don’t want to,” retorted Eric, “I don’t see the point. No one’s going to read these things.” Eric pointed at a disorganized pile of illustrations and text which he intended to eventually turn into a bona fide comic book.
“Your friends like it a lot.” responded Myrian.
“Because they are my friends. They are supposed to like my work. It’s what they are there for.” said Eric as he rolled off of the bed and onto his feet. Myrian opened one of his drawers and pulled out a pair of boxers, tossing them at Eric.
“Put these on and get to work. Your friends wouldn’t steer you wrong.”
“But I do my best work when I’m naked.” stated Eric with a goofy grin across his face.
“Put them on, and get to work.” repeated Myrian with a stern look and crossed arms. Eric stepped into the boxers and made his way into his small studio. He sat at his drawing table for ten minutes working on the fifteenth page of his sample first issue of “Medieval Might”. As he prepared to ink the splash page of a colossal dragon, the telephone rang.
“Don’t answer it!” commanded Myrian, but Eric reached for the phone none the less. Myrian shook her head as Eric began an hour long telephone conversation with his mother explaining why he broke up with Elise. “She just wasn’t making me happy.” was followed by “Who’s to say that we would have had kids.” which in turn was supported by “I know I need to make something of myself.”
While on the phone, Eric switched on his computer and elicited another disapproving look from Myrian while he browsed the internet. As he hung up the phone, he happened to be on the site of Elise’s web comic. The subject of the comic was how no one wanted to read fantasy comics anymore.
“I told you not to answer it.” said Myrian spitefully.
“Did you inspire this?” asked Eric.
“Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t. I just know that you have a story to tell and need to tell it before some body else does.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I mean to say that there are plenty of other hard working artist-writers that would love to work on a story like this. Maybe I could take this to Neil; he’s a good worker. I’d need to find an artist though…” Eric looked at Myrian with fire in his eyes. He felt jealousy and rage ignite within him. Myrian just looked at him coyly, crossing her legs as she sat on the corner of the computer desk.
“You know, I gave her up for you, Myrian.” said Eric as he stood up and walked into the kitchen where mountains of unwashed dishes sat upon the countertop. Dropping himself into a chair by a small table and looked at a sea of unopened mail. Myrian stormed into the room, her hooves clattering against the linoleum floor.
“What did you say? Correct me if I’m wrong, but did you just say that you gave her up for me?”
“Yes.” Replied Eric quietly.
“Eric! I can’t take Elise’s place! No matter how much you wish. I’m hardly even real!” Eric avoided making eye contact with Myrian by staring at the floor. He knew in his heart that Myrian could never replace Elise, but he hoped that she would at least be a temporary companion.
“I know it wouldn’t work between us, but does that mean we can’t try?” asked Eric meekly. Myrian looked down at him with pity. She hadn’t imagined that it would be possible for an artist to give up love in the real world for a chance to attain her affection. She knew how much Eric hated the real world, but she had no idea how much he didn’t want to live in it. She put one hand on his shoulder and lifted his head up with the other. She kissed him delicately on the lips and then took a step back.
“I appreciate your affection, Eric, I really do. If our lives were different…”
“I know,” interrupted Eric, “but you are happy just being my muse.”
“It isn’t that I’m happy like this. I would like more, but until I fulfill my purpose, I must remain what I am. I can’t feel love, I can only inspire it.” Eric looked at Myrian and stood up. His arms wrapped around her, embracing her closely.
“I’ll become a success for you, Myrian. I’ll help you fulfill your purpose, and until then , I foreswear everyone else.” Eric let go of Myrian and charged into his studio. He fervently inked page fifteen and by nightfall completed another four pages. Myrian watched as Eric worked intently. Guilt filled her, as she knew that she had come between Eric and Elise. As she thought of Elise, she also thought of how much Elise distracted Eric from his work. Slowly, she rid herself of all the blossoming guilt and happily embraced the idea that Eric had given himself entirely to her. She smiled happily as Eric, her Eric, slept at his drawing table. Slowly but surely, her story would be told through Eric, and when he was done, she would be free.