Monday, August 29, 2011


Today's muse: Sunday Scribblings

Prompt #282: Muse

* * *


She’d been gone a year, or so it seemed. In fact, it was less than a week. Five days. A fucking eternity.

“Back in a little while, baby.” She’d kissed him before leaving; a smoldering meeting of tongues that had left him needy.

Jake crushed out his cigarette, scrubbed his face with both hands. “Where the hell are you, Vera?”

He’d had nothing but Laphroaig and take-away Thai since she’d left. More of the former than the latter. It hadn’t helped. He needed Vera.

She’d always been there to guide him, help him push through his blocks to the next chapter. It was easy to have a female protagonist when Vera was there for him. She offered insight on the female psyche, suggesting language, tweaking nuances. And it was far easier to write a love scene when she was there beside him, whispering erotica in his ear, stroking him while he typed.

How could she abandon him at such a crucial point in his novel? What the hell was he going to tell his editor when he called?

Then the keys rattled in the front door. Like a loyal puppy, Jake’s head sprang up, his heart thundered in eager anticipation. Vera was home!

He sprang from the sofa, all but dumping his laptop on the floor. She’d hardly closed the door when he was upon her, pressing her against the wall, his mouth searching, tasting. She responded with greedy kisses, laughing at his impatience.

“Wait a minute, baby.” She held him back, cupped his face with her hands, pressed a light kiss on his cheek. “I can help you with your chapter now.”

It was then that he noticed the stains, the tears in her shirt.

“Jesus, Vera. Are you alright?” He took her hands in his. Always manicured, her nails were now crusted in dirt and…was that blood? “What the hell happened?”

“You needed help, baby.”

“What did you do?” Jake wondered if he really wanted to know the answer.

Vera pulled him toward the sofa, urged him to sit. She set his laptop on his knees, opened it up.

“I’ll tell you.” She set his fingers on the home keys and as she spoke, Jake typed his next bestseller.


jaerose said...

Are they writing it or living it..well is Vera?..a muse or a story maker..visceral also springs to mind as to how they're going about writing this chapter..nice to have you back..Jae

Monica Manning said...

Thanks, jaerose. I've often wondered about the psyche of crime writers, particularly when they write such gruesome scenes with incredible detail. "Write what you know" takes on a new and terrifying meaning.