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My Muse Plays Hard to Get by Kevin Lynn Helmick

I’m usually reluctant to talk about my muse, (in fact he doesn’t like it,) but he gave me a pass here, a nod, and said, “sure, go ahead.”

He’s been quite the backseat driver lately, maybe even moved up to shotgun. In the past he’s been more like the road weary hitchhiker, leaning forward once in while just to say, “turn here…slow down,” and keeping me in the dark, on edge, guessing if my throat would be cut and I, left for dead in a ditch around the next corner.

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