A/N: This is a new style for me. I hope you like it. This is dedicated to all writers whose muses go AWOL.

////

When he woke up, she was gone.

+++++

A telephone conversation:

"She's gone. Well and truly gone."

"What do you mean?"

"Poof! Disappeared."

"Disappeared how?"

"Not appearing? I can't even think of a synonym for that! I'm screwed."

"Nonsense. You're just tired. Why don't you go back to sle--"

"I can't sleep. I can't eat. I'm a mess. I can't think straight."

"Geez. It sounds like you're in love."

"Don't laugh. She's real... she was real to me. I felt her each and every time."

"Are you sure you don't want me to come over?"

"No. I don't want you to see me this way. I wouldn't be a gracious host."

"I'm not expecting you to throw a party. You have wine, right?"

"I think so. I've only seen the hard stuff."

"Oh, boy. I'll be right over."

"No, you don't have to."

"Yeah, I do. I'm out of bed now. I'll be there in half an hour. Make some coffee, will yah? Then we can chat about your missing muse."

"Okay. Thanks, buddy."

"Yeah. See you in a bit."

###

On the computer screen:

The...

The girl...

The magician...

The female magician girl...

The female girl...

...................

The quick brown fox jumps over something something and something else.

I'm screwed.

Yes, you are.

And I'm talking to myself.

You're also crazy.

Certifiably.

Nut job.

Bingo.

And you smell.

*sniffs armpits*

Eck! I do smell.

Stop talking to yourself.

Who else would I talk to?

....... Good call. Well, I gotta go, I have a date.

No you don't! You're me and I don't have a date!

Check the calendar.

*checks calendar*

Shit! Why didn't you tell me what today was? Ásshole!

You're welcome.

****

An overheard conversation at a wine and cheese party:

"Is that him?"

"Yeah, that's him. He looks young, huh?"

"Yeah but, man, sucks to be him."

"Yeah."

"Do you think he has completely lost it?"

"I don't know. I heard things."

"I saw him talking to the cheese plate."

"What?"

"Yeah, earlier. I thought he was just mumbling something. You know how writers get. They shut down without notice. But then he was addressing each and every piece-- the cheddar first, spoke Spanish with the manchego, French with the Chèvre and Camembert, told the Roquefort to take a bath!"

"No, he didn't!"

"Ow! Why did you slap me? I swear, I saw him! I think he alphabetized them too."

"Ew, did he touch all of it?"

"Think so."

"That's so gross."

"Yeah, he's totally lost it. There goes the Pulitzer."

"Did he get one?"

"He could have. His last one was epic."

"Epic good? Or epic long?"

"Both. I rated it five stars in Goodreads."

"Wow. Can I borrow it?"

"No way! What if he completely goes insane for real? That book is going to be worth a lot!"

"Didn't it sell like over a million copies?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Then yours is one in a million, moron."

"Hey! I don't appreciate that."

"Sorry. You want a kiss?"

"Yes, please."

"Is that better?"

"Yes."

"Good. Now get me another glass of that Pinot noir."

"Yes, dear."

****

A recorded conversation:

Female: How long has it been?

(Someone sighs in the background.)

Male: Seven weeks or so. I've lost track.

Female: It hasn't been that long then.

Male: It's enough for me.

Female: Has it ever happened before?

Male: Never.

(Silence)

Male: I have a deadline.

Female: When is it?

Male: I don't know. I have to consult my calendar.

Female: Don't you have a PA?

Male: I did.

Female: (In a lowered tone) What happened?

Male: (Clicks tongue) She was no good!

Female: (Sighs) Tell me.

Male: (In a clipped tone) She moved my stuff. I specifically told he:. The pen stays, the pad stays, the laptop doesn't get moved. What did she do? She used my pad, wrote... no, doodled on it with my fountain pen. The ink went all over the place.

(There's a scuffle in the background.)

Female: Calm down. Breathe. Sit back down. What happened to the laptop?

Male: (Sighs) She moved it.

Female: How do you know?

Male: I just know.

Female: I don't think that was grounds for firing her.

Male: I didn't fire her. She quit.

Female: (Clicks a pen) Quit? Did she give a reason?

Male: (Sighs heavily) She said that she wasn't a whôre.

Female: And why would she say that?

Male: Because I slept with her then handed her some cash.

(A crash explodes in the background)

Female: You did what?!

Male: I was paying her for being my PA. It wasn't my fault she thought it was payment for sex.

Female: When exactly did you pay her?

Male: Errr... (Clears throat) After sex... when she came back from the bathroom... she was naked. It's ridiculous. She was a horrible lay. I'd never pay her for that.

(Someone groans in the background.)

(A series of beeps interjects.)

Female: Time's up.

Male: Yeah. See you next week.

Female: And off the record, I think you're an a--

(End of recording.)

####

An Internet ad:

Wanted: Muse. Serious inquiries only. No talking. No laughing. No crying. All you have to do is sit there, quietly. Will pay cash. If interested, please click on the link below.

++++

Another telephone conversation:

"An ad?"

"Yup."

"Online?"

"Yup."

"Which site?"

"All of it."

"All?"

"Yup."

"Send me a link."

"Done... What do you think?"

"Geez. You were serious."

"Yup."

"You've lost your mind."

"Yup."

"Any takers?"

"Yup."

"How many?"

"As of last night... fifty. Oh, fifty-one... thousand."

"Holy mother of batman!"

"Yup."

"How are you going to go through all of that?"

"They sent me another PA."

"Oh geez."

"What?"

"You know what."

"Relax. I learned my lesson."

"Lessons. With an 's'."

"Pfft."

"Five PA's. You've had five of them in less than a month and you slept with all of them."

"What? I'm a man. I have needs, and they are..."

"Don't you even dare finish that."

"What?"

"You're an áss."

"Gee, thanks, friend."

"Yeah. You better thank me. As of now, by the way you're acting, you have one friend left. Me."

"Yup."

"Yeah. Lucky me."

"Yup."

****
An email correspondence:

To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Wanted Ad

Hello!

I saw your ad about your search for a muse. I have one question: are you crazy?

From,
A concerned citizen
----

To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Wanted Ad

Dear concerned citizen,

I was told I'm crazy, but there are no current documents to prove it. Are you interested?

Sincerely,

A very sane person

----

To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Wanted Ad

Not for a million dollars, you looney!

----
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re:Wanted Ad

How about a million and one?

----

To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Wanted Ad

You wish! I should report you!

----

To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re:Wanted Ad

To whom? The looney police?

----

To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Wanted Ad

You're incorrigible!

----

To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re:Wanted Ad

Ooooh... big word! Did you consult the dictionary for that? Or do you not know what a dictionary is?

----

To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Wanted Ad

For your information, I have a Masters in English Lit! 4.0 GPA!

----

To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re:Wanted Ad

Whoop-dee-doo!

Having a tough time looking for a job huh? What with your credentials, employers should be bashing through your door.

----

To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Wanted Ad

Áss!

----

To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re:Wanted Ad

Thank you.

So, why don't you send me your CV and I can slot you in for an interview next week?

----
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re: Wanted Ad

Ha! In your dreams!

----

To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re:Wanted Ad

Your loss.

####

A recorded conversation:

(There is a rustle of papers in the background.)

Female: Why don't you tell me about your dream again?

Male: (Sighs heavily) Do we have to? It's pretty fu-- screwed up.

Female: Please.

Male: (Sighs again) There was a girl..

Female: How old?

Male: I don't know. Early twenties to mid-twenties.

Female: Go on.

Male: She was wearing a gauzy dress.

Female: And she was naked under that?

Male: Yes. Great body...

(Someone clears a throat.)

Male: Right. Moving on. She had blue eyes and brown, curly hair. No, caramel hair, rich caramel, curly hair down to her mid-back. She was calling my name. Over and over again.

Female: Where was she?

Male: On the edge of a cliff.

Female: Is it somewhere you've been to before?

Male: Ireland. Possibly. Everything was green.

Female: Where were you standing?

Male: About twenty feet away from her. I was running.

Female: Her voice sounded familiar?

Male: (Groans) Yes and no.

Female: Explain.

Male: It feels like I should know it, but I'm not sure.

Female: She looked familiar? Have you ever seen her before?

Male: I don't know. Maybe. I watch people all the time... when I was writing. Maybe she passed me by once before. I'm not sure.

Female: What do you really think?

Male: (Sighs) I think she's my missing muse.

Female: Your missing muse? How do you know?

Male: (Blows air) The last thing I wrote was about a girl, woman in her twenties standing on the edge of the Earth.

Female: Did you describe her the same way?

Male: No. My woman has blue hair and yellow eyes. It's a fantasy.

Female: Go on.

Male: My woman jumped over the edge.

Female: Why?

Male: I don't know. I lost my muse after that. I fell asleep on my desk, and poof!

Female: And the woman in your dream?

Male: She jumped too.

Female: What did you see after that?

Male: Nothing. I woke up and called you.

Female: Have you written anything since that dream?

Male: No. She's still missing.

Female: Who is?

Male: My muse.

++++

A text conversation:

F: Where the hell are you?

S: What? Why?

F: We are supposed to meet a half hour ago.

S: Oh. Oops.

F: Oops? I missed a yoga class for this!

S: Well, you can talk to them. See if anyone is a good fit.

F: No. No. This PA is for you. Not for me. I only agreed to help you pick because I want to make sure you make the right decision.

S: I'm going to make the wrong decision. You tell me that all the time.

F: Get your âss here now!

S: Relax, will you? What crawled up your àss?

F: Now.

S: Fine

%%%%

An overheard conversation in a coffee shop:

"A Masters in English Lit. Wow. And 4.0 GPA."

"Yes. What can I say? I'm a fan of words."

"Great. That's great. How old are you?"

"Twenty-three."

"I see. And do you have a boyfriend?"

"Pardon me? What does that have to do with the job?"

"Nothing. Sorry. I didn't mean to offend you."

"It's fine. But no, I don't have a boyfriend."

"How about an older brother?"

"You're asking very weird questions. I was told this job is real, and I'm the best candidate for it."

"Yeah. I'm just checking. See, Addison..."

"Please, call me Addie."

"Okay. Addie, the thing is the man you'll be working for isn't exactly Mr Personality. He has issues... with people, and his things. He's a tad..."

"OCD?"

"No, just anál. He can be a real åss."

"Wow."

"Yeah."

"And you're his friend?"

"I'm his only friend."

"Well, I don't mind the challenge. I've worked with children and people with disabilities before. They're challenging as well."

"But they're nice people."

"Yeah, they're amazing."

"Your new boss is not. I want to make sure you know what you're getting into. That's all. I mean, take me for example. I was married, twice before. As soon as I introduced your boss to them, I got divorced."

"Really?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so."

"What did he do?"

"Nothing. He acted like himself. His selfish, pompous, anál self."

"Wow."

"But, then again, both of my ex-wives were cheating on me."

"Oh."

"Yeah. With the same gardener."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. In retrospect, I guess I should've fired my gardener."

"Yeah, maybe."

"But he was very good with his hands."

"Oh that's funny."

"Oh? Oh! Yeah. I'm a hoot."

"Is he still working for you?"

"Gah, no! You think I'm stupid? I moved to a condo. No more gardens."

"You're really funny."

"Yeah. You have a great personality, and a great laugh too. I hope he doesn't mess you up."

"I doubt it. I have five older brothers. Two are cops, one is a firefighter, one is a physical trainer, and the youngest of five is a judo master."

"Oh! Well then. I guess you're covered."

"I might look nice and sweet, but growing up with those guys toughened me up. I'm pretty sure I can handle my new boss."

"I guess I have nothing else to say but... congratulations, and good luck!"

"Thanks. I can't wait to meet him. I am a huge fan of his work."

"Oh don't tell him that."

"I won't. Did he say when he's coming?"

"Half an hour?"

"When was that?"

"Half an hour ago? He's not punctual. He's barely functional. That's why he needs a PA."

"Gotcha."

"He's been out of sorts lately. More than usual."

"How so?"

"Writer worries, I guess."

"Yeah. I should tell you about this guy and his wanted ad."

"Yeah?"

"A wannabe writer based on his email address. He's crazy for sure. He posted a wanted ad for a muse online. How nuts is that?"

"I beg your pardon?"

****

Sal Inger's shoulders sagged as he walked down the street to his favourite coffee shop, where they got his orders right ninety-five percent of the time. His one and only friend had sent him ten text messages since he had left his townhouse.

The sun made him wish that he had taken his sunglasses with him. The search for his muse had been a dud. After four interviews, Sal figured he needed to forget his search. He was hopeless. After nineteen best-sellers, all before his thirtieth birthday, his ink had dried out.

Taking defeat was never his strongest trait. He would rather wallow in the dark. If only his muse would come back.

Sal did not believe in divine intervention, but he would try anything to get his inspiration to return. Just until he finished his manuscript, he told whomever was in charge up above. He asked for help to bring her back in his life.

I would even stop sleeping with my PA's, he added in his thoughts.

When he pushed open the shop's door, he could see his friend right away, at their usual spot. His friend wasn't alone. Sal was surprised that his new PA had sat there this long. His friend waved at him, and Sal shrugged, then let his shoulders dropped again.

Sal walked over to where his friend sat. His friend stood and patted Sal on the shoulder. When Sal turned to the person his friend introduced as "Addison, but she prefers Addie", he nearly lost his mind.

The rich caramel-colored, curly-haired woman, with blue eyes looked up and smiled at him. And when she said his name, he knew. His muse had finally returned.

****

The End?

A/N: Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed my little story. This is a new style for me. It is a first draft.