Published May 27, 2010

You follow your muse instead of running from the police

Emily, your muse
Emily is your muse

You were up too late last night, and now you’ve scarcely got the energy to lie in bed and read all day. You need to move around to keep the police from pinning you down, and the pressure of dodging them is getting to you. You call Emily, your muse, “I think I’m going to go to the police tomorrow and find out what it is they want with me.”

“You really think that’s a good idea?” she says sexily. “What if you go to jail?”

You realize it’s this bad boy persona of yours that attracts her to you, so you play it up a bit. “Yeah, I looked around on the Internet for crimes I might have committed. I guess they could charge me with indecent exposure and disorderly conduct. Maximum sentence could be as high as 20 years…”

“They probably just want to see if you’re all right, and maybe they can provide some clues about this memory loss of yours.”

“Yeah, that might be. If they do lock me up though, will you stay true? Like the women in Leadbelly songs?”

“Of course, love,” she says. You breathe a sigh of relief. At least your insomnia and amnesia have not put a whole lot of strain on your relationship.

“Great, I’m going to do something special for you so that you know how much you mean to me,” you promise.

You decide to: