Muse 113: Wonders

found via jill willcot

There are seven wonders of the world. To the womanizers, they'll say you are the eighth. From your one and only, he'll have never heard of any wonders because all he's known to believe in is you. It's words and tricks like these that make girls wait and believe. You're his only wonder, the knowledge is all he needs to know. It's sentences strung together like this that make love seem vast and full of depth. After all, to find that one person who you belong to, and to whom you belong - hand in hand forever with no other - isn't it worth it? Isn't it? ...Isn't it? ...isn't...it...? To a boy who has a girl, who is his one wonder, she is like an echo that haunts him if she is never found.

Muse 110: here comes Now

found via weheartit

Fear came in pairs of threes. She was always scared of the combination. Three words (I love you), three sentences (I'm sorry, There's something I need to tell you, and No.), three numbers (666) and then there was three letters (now). (Now) She heard that word last. It was so permanent and present, describing everything in the small time space that had just happened (now). 

"You're different (now)," he said. "It's only been a year since I last saw you, but you've grown so much." Plenty of things can happen in a year, she thought sarcastically. It's 365 days, 365 chances to hear words unexpected, three hundred sixty five moments to hope for the worse like this moment between us (now). "Things feel different (now)."

Now if only she could take those words and throw it back in time. Now wouldn't matter so much as later. Not so much as back then. She scratched her head and smoked her cigarette as he looked onward with distaste. The science of words and time - figuring out how would fix everything (now). 

Muse 2: We wish Books were real

He sat on the floor, two feet away from the long bare legs that reached a point where flesh twisted into the curves and shapes of a callow female. "Look, look," he cried as something winked between the ink and the crinkles of the old fantasy story. He reached out and placed his warm little hand on her knee - pushing back and forth the way a mother would rock a baby to sleep, but the sitter was no baby, and she was more consumed with reality embedded in binary stages between the mental and metal. "Look, look - looook," he said once more as the story came to life and hopped, hopped, bounced across the page as if the individual letters were not words but of the greener pastures. As he kept shaking the sitter's leg, he reached out with his other hand to touch the fumbling rabbit. "Look, look, look...." his voice faded in the distance, and when the girl looked up, the warm hand was gone, and the boy of three was mentioned in the fairy tales. In a paragraph of its own, the words "Look, look, look!" became immortally known.

365 Musings

Starting from yesterday, I’m going to find a picture that inspired me to write a short blurb - no more than one paragraph long. This is going to be a writing practice for me so that I won’t lose my creativity and become irrelevant/redundant. I’ll post them here, but maybe I’ll post them in a blog so that they’re all archived in one spot. I’ll tag them as 365Muses is anyone ever want to look at only them.