Can you help me? I’ve think I’ve lost my muse. She’s gone missing. Again. She left the sheets all rumpled in her bed and there are Cheerios floating in leftover milk in the bowl on the kitchen table.
She’s been doing this a lot recently. Just up and leaving. She never tells me where she’s going. Sometimes I have to go out and find her. Sometimes she comes home on her own.
Can you help me find her?
Wait. I hear something. Coming from the roof. Do you hear that banging?
It’s awfully windy and cloudy outside. The leaves are showing their white undersides. Thunderstorm is brewing. I really need to find her…
Hold on.
I see her.
She’s on the rood, hammering down a lightning rod. I guess she’s waiting for the lightning to strike. How else do you think the stories get sparked?
