My muse and I stood by the Well of Creativity. I peered into the well searching for inspiration but saw nothing but darkness there. Solemnly I grasped the well’s crank and lowered the bucket of my thoughts. The rope played out to its end and there was a faint clunk from within the well. I began to reel in the slackened cord. Shortly, the bucket had returned to us but was filled with nothing but dust.
I looked to my muse. She shrugged at me and grinned a sheepish grin. She turned to go. A mad impulse over took me. I grabbed her, throttled her, and threw her into the well. As she disappeared into the blackness I heard her cry;
“You’re welcoooooooooome!”
And there was a splash from the well.
I am Karl Fogsen. Thanks for reading.
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