White walls… Sort of represents my creativity at the moment. Not even a smudge or child’s drawing to leap a story from. The plant resembles a spider, but the muse continues to sleep. Wake up! A killer spider plant, you can do this. The little voice in my head says, “piss off, you’re stupid”.
The old books might be enticing if I could read their spines. A white basket – there’s that colour again, against the matching wall and bookcase. Inspiration dead…
“Hey Tannille, let’s go work on the novel.”
Oh so now you play Muse, when the flash is over?