Moving In

Robert Quick

Where the -@!# did my muse go?

Writer, dreamer, knight, shackled by entertainment . . . and people.


My new apartment felt like it was part of my old neighborhood. The details differed, of course. A Mexi-mart instead of a 7-11 on the corner. Out front, Carson Street stretched out instead of Fallon Street. But sometimes new streets shared the same faces, different versions of the same people we once knew. I always kept an eye out, just in case, hoping. I wondered if I would ever meet the other me's. I shuddered.

I'd definitely get on my own nerves.

The exterior of the apartment was the color of well-creamed coffee; the start of a new day.

Even though it was obvious people lived here, or at least vacationed here, I hadn't ever seen anyone beyond the owner who had given me a tour. The whole neighborhood looked lived in with bikes leaning against fences, and enough debris to look used but not filthy. Where was everyone? Inside? Away at the same time? I couldn't think of anything that would cover everyone.

Slapping the front of the apartment, I grinned. If no one showed up pretty soon, I'd remake the world.


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Comments (2 so far!)

ElshaHawk LoA

ElshaHawk LoA

First, he'll need a love interest...

  • #1382 Posted 3 years ago
  • 0
Robert Quick

Robert Quick

Always

  • #1383 Posted 3 years ago
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  • Published 3 years ago.
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