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Slumber

It's time to wake up the muse, he thought. She has been worshiping Rip Van Winkle for quite some time. Do I really need to interrupt her worship? It was a rhetoric question of sorts. He wanted her to be up. But didn't have the guts to do it. He approached her before his new found courage could hide in the darkest corners of his mind.

There she was lying motionless, secured to a bed of inertia covered with cobwebs of memory. He could see her faint radiance seeping through the dusty words that have settled on her. I can never blame her, he thought. For it's me who neglected her. i was too busy to notice that she was there waiting for me. All that mattered to me was fame and fortune. And now all that is left is just her.

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