My Muse


Irritated! Of course I’m bloody irritated, who wouldn’t be. He’s quite happy to call himself a writer when the plaudits are being handed out but where is he when the real work needs to happen. When the endless hours need putting in, when the words just won’t come? He’ll be off on some fancy golf course with his mates or down the local pub playing darts. Leaving me, his overworked and unappreciated muse, to stay up to the early hours trying to get the bloody book finished. I bet you it’s not my name he puts on the front cover!


My Drabble Project – Day 18, Story 49.

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