Be Mused



Morning commute, I am sitting in a corner seat when muse strikes. It’s a crowded train, there are people are all around me. Really Calliope, now? -Or was it Erato this time? Either way, darn Muse! It’s annoying, but personal experience, aka the hubris of Oh, I’ll remember this later to write it down has taught me harsh lessons to not mess with the Muse. They graciously bestow at their convenience, not yours, and will cattily take it away have you not the guts to heed. I have also learned, type now edit later. Spell checks, grammar checks, syntax, style can all be fine tuned later. No matter how disjointed they initially seem, there will be nothing to fine tune if I don’t get the lines down first.

Thus, I pull out my tablet try to capture the stream of consciousness that are their gifts as they rain down.  I barely remember to look up to check stations every now and then so I don’t miss my stop.  In order to hold my tablet properly as I type means my elbow slightly encroaches into the personal space of the person sitting next to me, but I pay it little heed as I type/cut/copy/paste/arrange.  I am approaching my station when I stop to pack up.  It’s a little ways from finished, a long ways from polished, but I have to stop and hope I can recapture that mood to finish it right at a later time.

Later that morning, tablet in hand, I am exiting a Starbucks when I see this a guy coming towards my general direction. He stops short when he sees me and breaks out into a grin. With that grin he goes from coming towards my general direction to coming directly towards me.  There is no question that he’s coming towards me as he waves his hand, nods and points directly at me in response to my Who me? pantomime. There is a vague familiarity to him, but my mind won’t quite make the connection and I have time to kill so I wait until he reaches me.

“So, how’d it turn out?” His hand waves in the general direction of my tablet.

Uh, what? While I have no idea what I was expecting him to say, I guarantee it was not that. It must have shown on my face.

“Saw the poem you writing in your tablet and…” And click… The missing piece falls into place as I recognize him.

He got on the train about a third of the way in my commute, then got off at the same station as I. This was the person sitting beside me on the train, whose space I invaded as I wrote. While I was not hiding my words as I composed, I was not inviting them for casual perusal either. Still, he liked what he had glimpsed. He did not want to interrupt and in the rush of disembarking, I disappeared into the crowd before it occurred to him to stop me. Not expecting to ever lay eyes on me again, and resigned to not knowing the outcome of the write, now that he has seen me he was curious and could not help but ask about the finished product.

We chat for a bit where he acknowledges the creepiness of reading as I wrote, but hey we were on a crowded train, can’t say that I blame him. I likely would have done the same were the roles reversed.  I respond that I have not finished, sometimes a complete write drops fast, some have to simmer for a bit before I think they are ready for the world to digest. I give him the URL to this blog to peruse at his leisure and eventually see the finished product. As we part ways what is the first thought that enters my mind?

Hey, this would make a good Slice!

And so we begin – Day One down, only 30 more to go.

As for that poem? Well, that one is still simmering. You’ll know when I know.


10th Annual Slice of Life Story Challenge!DAY 1

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