The Muse

She moves quietly through the dark of the night, her bare feet hardly leaving a trace in the dewy lawn. A soft breeze stirs the leaves in the trees as if the night itself had exhaled. I roll over in my sleep warm bed. Something is missing.

Her long white dress flows behind her as she dances through the moonlight. She can hardly contain her laughter. I sit up with a start, and look about the room, but it’s as empty as ever. Laying my head upon the pillow, I see the moonbeams streaming through the open window and wonder how many more lonely nights there will be. I close my eyes, and try to find my way back into the dream.

Tiptoeing up the stairs, brushing her hair back from her face, she approaches the door. The knob turns slowly, and the door creaks upon its hinges. I open one eye and look across the bed in time to see her slip beneath the sheets. I cannot tell if I’m asleep or awake, but I no longer care. She has returned.

4 thoughts on “The Muse

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