The Author and His Muse
Bryan Colella
He sits working intently in the corner with his journal. He wants to write and maybe even get paid for it. She glares across the room at him. He peers for less than a second and catches her gaze.
He hadn’t had to lift his eyes from his work to notice her natural blond hair standing out against the grain, or her tall slim figure saunter across the room, or her light complexion, or even to notice how she demanded the attention of the room without even knowing it, but now that he has her undivided attention, for at least the split second where their eyes remain locked, he will make the best of his time. Her piercing blue eyes show full of life against wide pupils. She bats her eyes delicately at him. He wonders if she genuinely bats them so beautifully or if that is simply her last defense in the infamous game of “who caught whom”, which he had won of course, having caught her looking up from her tea.
She begins to smile and he widens his focus as to take it in. It’s an almost bashful smile; playful yet reserved. He wonders whether she loves or kills by this smile, or whether she would allow him to slowly get to know the innocent playful girl behind this bashful smile, or whether it is simply a weapon in her arsenal for getting her own way. He then notices her prominent jaw line. It stands out; sexy amongst cute counterparts, all in harmony.
He widens his focus yet again and absorbs her completely. He pictures her as she walks down beige stone steps, reaching for a white wooden archway and plucking a grape from the vine that coils it as she passes underneath. She’s barefoot, with the soft Tuscan grass under her soles, looking out at the sun in its last remaining moments in the sky as it bleeds over the jagged mountaintops and creates an array of color beginning with orange and fading up into a magnificent shade of pink.
He looks out at her as she admires the sunset. It’s neither the sun bleeding over the mountaintop nor the spectrum of color that catches his attention, but rather way the light extenuates her beautiful free body. His eyes follow the illuminated outline of her long legs and slender curves like contour lines to her perfectly broad shoulders.
He finally averts his gaze back to his notepad and holds the pen still for a second, taking a second to think, “She does genuinely bat her eyes so beautifully.” Refreshed with creativity, his pen comes to life. He wants to write and maybe even get paid for it.
He hadn’t had to lift his eyes from his work to notice her natural blond hair standing out against the grain, or her tall slim figure saunter across the room, or her light complexion, or even to notice how she demanded the attention of the room without even knowing it, but now that he has her undivided attention, for at least the split second where their eyes remain locked, he will make the best of his time. Her piercing blue eyes show full of life against wide pupils. She bats her eyes delicately at him. He wonders if she genuinely bats them so beautifully or if that is simply her last defense in the infamous game of “who caught whom”, which he had won of course, having caught her looking up from her tea.
She begins to smile and he widens his focus as to take it in. It’s an almost bashful smile; playful yet reserved. He wonders whether she loves or kills by this smile, or whether she would allow him to slowly get to know the innocent playful girl behind this bashful smile, or whether it is simply a weapon in her arsenal for getting her own way. He then notices her prominent jaw line. It stands out; sexy amongst cute counterparts, all in harmony.
He widens his focus yet again and absorbs her completely. He pictures her as she walks down beige stone steps, reaching for a white wooden archway and plucking a grape from the vine that coils it as she passes underneath. She’s barefoot, with the soft Tuscan grass under her soles, looking out at the sun in its last remaining moments in the sky as it bleeds over the jagged mountaintops and creates an array of color beginning with orange and fading up into a magnificent shade of pink.
He looks out at her as she admires the sunset. It’s neither the sun bleeding over the mountaintop nor the spectrum of color that catches his attention, but rather way the light extenuates her beautiful free body. His eyes follow the illuminated outline of her long legs and slender curves like contour lines to her perfectly broad shoulders.
He finally averts his gaze back to his notepad and holds the pen still for a second, taking a second to think, “She does genuinely bat her eyes so beautifully.” Refreshed with creativity, his pen comes to life. He wants to write and maybe even get paid for it.
