My muses woke me at 5:00AM to write a short story. I’m tired, hungover but I persist anyway. I complete the task and realize it’s 7:00AM. I might as well just stay up and go to work. There’s no sense in napping for a half an hour. No one in work will care if I’m tired or not. They won’t give a shit if I wrote a short story or a poem. They’ll only care if I’m able to do the work and execute the tasks at hand.
Muses bitching
nagging short stories to life
endlessly prodding
pushing for new creation
at any hour of day