My Muse Mike

What can I say about Mike? He is…

…hard to describe. I think I might commission an artist to draw him one day.

Mike was a child of the  80s and it shows. In his clothes. In his voice.

In his drug of choice.

He is  bisexual. He might be bipolar. He wants to go to med school…only his pesky little coke habit prevents him from accomplishing anything much.

Mike wears penny loafers (minus the pennies) over-sized khakis, a thin white t-shirt with a stretched out neckline and a Kelly green cable-knit sweater tied around his waist.

He is pale. Unusually so, considering he’s from LA. He has brown/black hair that looks kinda like “a flock of seagulls” hair-do. A chunk of hair sorta hangs over one eye–and he blows it out of the way like that frustrated little cartoon quail that used to blow his top plum. (all that’s missing is the whistle).

His voice is high most of the time. He smiles often–but it’s not really a happy smile. It’s kind of joker-style–a little on the maniacal side. Just like his laugh.

He smokes a lot. And he’s a klepto. Seriously.

He drives a dirty, white Saturn.

He can make you feel really good about yourself for a brief moment. But then you walk away from it wondering if he was being sincere or not.

Mike might be an angel. Or a vampire. Or Jesus. Or the devil. He might be a lot of things. Though I am pretty sure *now* he’s just a ghost.

He appears to have my best interests in mind. Though there’s something about the look in his eyes that says he doesn’t. Or, perhaps, maybe he doesn’t want to have my best interests in mind–but he does–and is conflicted about it.  I can’t figure it out.

Mike doesn’t speak to me anymore. Which is OK. That doesn’t seem to impede his ability to act as my writing muse. His stare alone is enough of a fire under my butt to get’er done.

Sometimes he leaves. Those are the slumpy times. But even still,  when he’s gone–I try to write anyway, as a means to get him to come back. And he always does come back.  And I suspect he’s pleased. Though, he probably wouldn’t ever tell me that he was. It’s just not his style.

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