I was stuck. Writers block. Nothing was occurring to me, no theme, no idea, nothing. Even a succession of large drinks couldn't loosen the synapses enough to let something out. I just sat and stared at the screen of the monitor, hoping that something would come. Another drink was too much and I slumped unconscious before the computer. It was dark when I awoke. The computer had gone into sleep mode, but the radio was still playing gently in the background. I heard another sound, the sound of someone breathing quietly. I raised my head painfully and looked around the room. There was no-one to see, but I could still hear the noise.
"Hello?" I called out softly. "Who's there?" There was no answer. As I turned around further I nudged the mouse and the computer woke up noisily, the few lines I had written appearing to mock me.
"Why the hell can't I think of anything?" I swore at the taunting screen.
"That's why I'm here, maybe I can help you?" A sweet voice came out of the ether.
"Who... Who said that?"
"That was me, your muse."
"Why can't I see you?"
There was a sigh.
"So you won't accept I'm here unless you can see me? All right here I am." There was a sound like Hundreds-and-Thousands rolling around a cymbal, a dull glow and then silence again, except for the radio still playing. Beside me was a young-looking, alabaster-skinned redhead wearing a simple floral dress. Her fingers were interlaced in front of her.
"Where did you come from?"
Another sigh.
"I just appeared here dummy, weren't you watching? No wonder you can't write anything."
"Sorry." I mumbled, too astonished to say anything else. "Wasn't very spectacular was it?" She snorted and crossed her arms. "To return to my original question then, who are you?"
"My name is Sarakuk, I've been assigned as your muse. A muse of computer stories."
"Seems pretty specific."
"Modern times need modern solutions. And I'll be more help than that help icon in the corner I promise." By now I was convinced I was still asleep, that this was some alcohol-induced lateral thinking. "It's nothing of the sort!" The girl said. "Sheesh! I come here to help and all I get is doubts."
"How did you know what I was thinking?" I asked.
"I'm your muse. I wouldn't be much help unless I could see into your mind would I?"
"Is there anything in there that could help me at the moment?"
"No. It's all pretty disgusting." She frowned. "And you can stop thinking that too!"
"Sorry muse, but you are kinda cute." I went red.
"Really?" She seemed surprised.
"Really cute, muse."
"I suppose I'll have to get used to how you think." She hummed. "And can you call me Sara?"
"Sure Sara. What do we do now?"
"How about we decide what this story is about for starters?"
"Errrr..."
"I see. You have no idea. Well, you don't repeat stories, so we can eliminate what it isn't can't we?"
"I suppose."
"Come on; work with me a little here."
"Well, it's supposed to be a romance."
"That's a relief." She rolled her emerald eyes.
"Maybe some fantasy subject?"
"Dream fulfilment?"
"All my stories are some sort of dream fulfilment."
"They are aren't they?" Sara stood with her hand resting on her chin. "How about this?"
There was another dull glow and a strained tinkling sound.
Suddenly Sara and I were sat on a bus, a late night bus, with two other people.
"Sara, I hate to say this, but your effects need some work."
"Picky, picky."
"Anyway where are we?"
"This is a scene you wrote a long time ago, but never finished."
It came to me in a flash. I had written something like this, but couldn't think where to take it.
"I remember." I paused. "But I used the loss of memory idea in one story, and the bus became a train in one and a plane in another."
Sara looked ahead for a moment.
"Yes, I see the connections now. Let me think a minute." She went quiet.
The two other passengers talked without noticing us. I took the time to look Sara over. She was really attractive in a cutesy way, almost childlike, but with a great...
"Hey! I told you before about that."
"Sorry again." I blushed. "I can't help it; you have that effect on me."
The special effects came in again.
Now we were on the banks of a lake. "No Sara, not this. I can never finish this."
"Sorry." Sara looked downcast. "It seems so strong though."
"It is, that's why I'll never finish it. It was trying to take some secret thoughts into a story, but it will never work. The thoughts, the feelings, are too private. Try something else." The effects fizzed again. "Why are these effects so bad?" I asked.
"If you must know, it's because I'm so low on the list. All the great muses have spectacular effects; I'm such a minor muse I have to take what I can get. Okay? Happy now you've humiliated me?"
"Sorry. I didn't mean to make you feel bad. I am new at this though."
"I'm not exactly a veteran either. We'll have to learn together." She sighed. Another thought popped into my head. "I'm not going to keep telling you about that. If you're not careful, I'll go and find someone else to help." She went really red this time. I wasn't sure if she was angry or blushing.