I've finished "Part Two" but have decided not to post it. I've fallen in love with my young disappearing friend and my young disappearing friend's story and have selfishly decided to keep them for myself for the time being. (It's going to a very, very, very short pile of work that I deem, with some elbow grease, can be possibly polished up someday.)
My muse is the actual author of this story. She inhabits my body from time to time, and in doing so, words, ideas and thoughts effortlessly flow from my fingers. She so inhabits my body and soul that she's able to reach portions of my mind that have been dormant for years and years.
And on occasion when I finish a story such as "Disappearing Act," I find that tears are rolling down my cheeks. And they are not sad tears nor are they joyful tears, but tears of relief that these words have been set free.
So, as long as my muse is around, as she is at the given moment, I'm going to let her have free reign on my short stories.
I, meanwhile, will continue to share updates on the mundane events of my life in the country.
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