We are in the phase of our relationship where we are drifting apart slowly. I don’t even catch her looking at me absentmindedly. She doesn’t care that I am here, waiting for her.
If she doesn’t want me, I don’t want her either. Mumbled my adamant mind.
But, the truth is I need her more than I like to admit. I can only hope that she needs me too. But that’s a bit stretched even in my wildest imagination. My heart craved for one of those casual glances she often threw my way.
I need her, that’s the simple truth. Maybe, it’s time to put aside my ego and go after her. My persistence might pay off someday. After all, I can’t survive as a writer by parting ways with my muse. I want to be held captive by my muse.
This flash fiction piece is written in response to the one hundred and twenty-ninth edition of Fiction Monday for the word prompt – MUSE hosted at Reflections by yours truly. Do join in if you have a tale to tell.
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