The Writing Moment

“Foul,” the brain cried. “What are we doing up so early?”

His coffee-depleted mouth struggled to respond. “It’s the muses.”

“Them.” The brain scowled. “I can do without… What now?”

“They cracked the whip. Said he had to get up early and make time to write.”

“Write.” The brain snorted. “What a waste. Go back to bed.”

“Too late,” the heart said. “We’ve already had coffee. We’re up now.”

The brain sighed. “Well, I guess it’s time to write like crazy, again, innit?”

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