Becoming The Muse

The sun made a feeble attempt to warm up the planet, a weaker willed sun would have given up, plunging the world into darkness. The horizon was a dusty mask as if the milk in the milky way had curdled.  A couple of trees were a vibrant green but most were poorly shod, brown leaves littering the ground like discarded paper towels blowing in the breeze.

If you closed your eyes and listened, you could feel the pulse of the city vibrating beneath the souls of your feet, the sound of passing traffic punctuated by the occasional screech of car breaks and the odd bang of a fender bender.

And here I was, in the centre of it all, like a big fat spider sitting in the middle of a tangled web, waiting, noiselessly and patiently. What was I waiting for? Prey I suppose, something tender.

 Would I even know what I was hunting when I found it. I wondered to myself, eyes, glazed and motionless, unblinking, lost in the echoes of the past as if I could wind back the hands of time and change… things.

Random sounds burst through my reverie awakening me to the presence of life passing by, the sound of men at work, the click-clack of stiletto heels and the pitter patter of bare feet on the pavement. Figures clad in tailored suits styled all colours from tan to black and pinstripe layouts. Chic trendsetters in figure-hugging apparel complemented with matching accessories.

The air was a mixture of scents like the first day of spring and covered in a riotous bloom of smells. Such is the world, cloaked in a need to survive, no one noticed me, noticed how each move they made was like a chess piece on a checkered board of day and night, a game of fate, and piece by piece removed from the board…

And I waited ever so patiently for someone to get close to the edge.

~B

-From a story I found in my 22 year old diary… not sure where the story was going but do join along for the ride, any ideas? Blog Battle Theme: Tender