Muse (part 5)

April 5, 2016

close bell

Starting Again

Wishful thinking was no way to run your life; that’s what Leon decided after the encounter with the almost Mia clone. Meg and Sara didn’t mattered anymore; he’d made the adjustment to their abandonment, at least in his head. A thought prevailed; there was something unusually sensual about Mia, the likelihood she would show up and fill the vacancy, entirely ludicrous. Whether the muse existed or not, there was no reason she’d drop in for a social call, tell him she loved him and settle down in a cottage with a picket fence in the burbs. That scenario existed in novels, not real life.

Nettie seemed like an amiable woman yet there was a sense of distancing when they were face to face. Perhaps he had come on too strong; she wasn’t the bubbly muse, like Mia, no matter how similar they may appear. The twinkle in Nettie’s eyes was a little like Mia’s; that similarity seemed to end there.

Writing was becoming like the weather, good, bad, unpredictable at times. His book signing tour finally ended, covering twelve stores and seven states. At each of these, women continued to drop notes in his lap as before, phone numbers, some leaving vital statistics for good measure. A few of them were attractive if not straight forward beautiful, Leon tempted only briefly with the thought of what might be.


I should have called one or two of those numbers, he thought to himself. My breakup with Sara was months ago, even then, she was keeping her distance until I wrote something. I could use a little affection, some comforting; but a one-night stand telling a woman I’ll see her again is not what I want. For God sake, I should be mature about this; I’m not a teen or in my twenties anymore.


Once again he sat before his computer considering what new story was waiting to be told. His screensaver had a nice scene of fish swimming about in a predictable pattern, a crab walking sideways and back again. Meg had given him that for his birthday a few years before. When she left he didn’t have the heart to delete the screensaver, which reminded him of how much he cared for her. Sara didn’t know it was from Meg and called the effect ‘cute’ and ignored the flow of fishes going from right to left.

He tapped the key to open his word processing program hoping to think of something to kick off another story. Unlike Lorenzo-Schutz Publishing, his new publisher was not pressing him for an immediate book, the last still generating enough money in the market. A blank form popped up onscreen the cursor flashing, preparing for onslaught of words. He sat poised, holding his hands over the keyboard, inspiration, giving way to a distracting noise outside. Pulling his concentration back to the task, he began.

‘Mia,’ was the first thing he typed at the top of the page. He deleted that typing ‘Nettie’ in its stead. How stupid was that? A name is not a story unless there is a story behind the name. Nettie was a chance meeting with no story waiting to be told. He deleted the name as something began to materialize automatically, words he wasn’t typing.


‘Remember what I taught you,’ began the message. ‘Clean you apartment before you write anything.’


Leon checked to be sure he hadn’t signed on to one of the social networks by accident. He rarely engaged any of them because they were time consuming and dumb. Turning off the computer and restarting it, he carefully activated his word processing program again.


‘You are a stubborn man,’ said the screen.

‘Who are you?’ he typed back.

‘Really? Has it been that long since we worked together?’

‘How on earth did you get access to my computer?’ he demanded with a flurry of fingers on the keyboard.

‘I don’t play by the same rules, Leon. You should remember that.’



‘This is impossible.’

‘Oh come on, Leon. I thought you would have figured this out by now.’


In a flash he quit the application pushing his chair away from the desk as if it Great White Shark preparing to make a meal of him. It had been a year since Mia was in his life, if she was indeed real; that continued to be the reoccurring concern. Now she was back but not in the flesh or was this another wishful thinking event? The pretty woman at the signing had kindled something in his head; that had to be the reason for this new hallucination.



Last Ditch Effort


After the release of his fourth book, Sara did everything she could to maneuver him back to her publishing company. Her goal to fuck her way up the ladder of success had failed miserably, Schutz enjoying the benefits for a while before moving on to a younger prettier secretary in the outer offices. With that avenue closed, Sara had to find another angle to move up in the publishing business lest she be relegated to tiny percentages for her work. Leon could provide that if she could convince him to sign up with her.

Four in the afternoon and Leon heard a knock at his door. He expected no one and really didn’t want to answer it until he heard a female voice outside. Moving toward the door he could only thing of one person, Mia. Was it her coming back to him; why didn’t she just appear like before? He felt a rush inside of him, exciting him to the point of stumbling over his own feet. When he opened the door, disappointment greeted him in the form of Sara. Granted she looked pretty good, sexy considering it was a work weekday, her outfit not the normal suit. His excitement was slightly amplified as he viewed he soft white breasts attempting to escape the neckline of her, not so modest dress, accented with spiked high heels, causing her calves shape nicely.

“Long time no see,” she said twisting her mouth in a half smile. “I was in the neighborhood and decided to say hi, if that’s okay with you. You could offer a girl a cup of coffee.”

“Yeah sure, coffee, if I have any” he responded. “Oh, no clean cups.”

“Never mind the coffee then,” she purred. “I’ve missed you.”

“Been busy,” he stammered. “Writing my next book.”

“Really, Leon? No dry spell this time?”

“Maybe a little dry spell but I’ll have something before too long; I can feel it.”

“Hmm! Maybe I can inspire you in some way, like we used to do?” Sara released one of the small buttons at the top of her dress, a prelude to something Leon wanted but not from her.

“I can’t Sara. What we used to do was fun but I’m past that now. I’m not angry about Schutz thing; you have ambition and he can do things for your career that I can’t. You should have said something; I felt like such a fool.”

“Oh baby, you can do so much for me,” she cooed. “And in return I can do a lot for you.”

Sara knelt down placing her hands on his hips to steady him. She loosened another button on the dress allowing one breast to completely be exposed the other competing for attention. He knew what was going to happen next and had to fight the temptation that was building.

“I can see our little friend is interested,” she replied running her hand over his trousers, his excitement obvious.

“We can’t do this in the hallway,” he insisted. “I’ve got neighbors and besides, it’s really over between us. You said take it or leave it, I recall.”

“A girl can change her mind if she wants; it’s a woman’s prerogative.”

Sara pushed him further into the apartment, bumping the door closed with her butt. She was intent on seducing Leon, not going to take no for an answer. She unfastened his belt reaching for his zipper.

He enjoyed sex; and Sara had honed the act into an art form few men could resist. As much as it would be easy to let her have her way with him, he had resolved to stop it before it got out of hand.

“No Sara!” he snapped pulling away from her. “You’re not going to do this to me. Besides, I’m___ I’m seeing someone else at the moment.”

“Bullshit!” she yelled. “Don’t think for a second I haven’t checked up on you. There’s no woman in the picture. Stop lying!”

“No, really,” he returned. “There is someone; I just don’t know if she likes me.”

“Ha!” she exclaimed, struggling to her feet, adjusting her dress and tucking in her breasts. “You find some little college girl who left you her phone number at your signings? I know all about the stupid groupies who will do anything to say they did. That’s a joke, Leon. She’ll get tired of you and your moods in no time.”

“Nothing like that,” answered Leon. “Besides it’s none of your business.”

“Fuck!” said Sara loudly surveying runs in her hose. “I snagged my pantyhose while I was on the floor. The damn floor is splintered by the door Leon. Why don’t you have carpet like all other civilized people?”

“I think you should leave,” he replied, trying not to gaze at what she was offering.

Sara’s eyes were liquid fire at the mention of being blatantly dismissed. She did not lose at any game, especially one where her reward could be twofold; she enjoyed the sex and snagging a popular writer would give her leverage in the business; Lorenzo-Schutz Publishing wasn’t the only game in town. Armed with that thought she pulled out all the stops dropping her dress to the floor, her naked body now available to Leon. Men’s little heads overrode the big one in judgment calls like this; Sara was no one to be dismissed when it came to being sexually desirable.

“You don’t mean that,” she declared confident her display might change his mind. “I remember how you couldn’t wait to fuck me every time we were together; I’m sure that hasn’t changed. Remember how you loved doing it in the elevator of my building? The super still doesn’t know why the elevator stalled that day.”

“That was fun but that was also when you pretended to love me,” he returned. “It took me a while to realize you were only manipulating me to get what you wanted. You got exactly that.”

The battle was lost, Sara needed to pick up the dead and wounded in this conflict, regrouping for another attack. For now she would retrieve her dress and consider a different tactic. What was it Leon wanted?

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