Howling at the Muse

When the writing time came this morning, I stared at a blank sheet of paper rolled into my manual typewriter for a good two hours.

I howled at the Muse. The Muse remained silent. She either was not listening or did not care. After a while the Muse said, “quit whining, asshole.”

I started typing the thing I was thinking about at the time. I will squish it into the previous days’ writing later.