It was after 4 o’clock and Myrtle my muse was late. “What kept you so long?” I asked peevishly.
“I was busy,” she responded curtly. “You know, I do have a life, and I also have other writers who need me. So if I took a little extra time with breakfast, don’t get tough with me, buster.”
From experience, I knew to keep my displeasure to myself from here on. “I’m glad to see you,” I said meekly.