Member-only story
The Muse Who Dances in October
100 Faces in 100 Stories — No32
1 min readFeb 1, 2023
I never knew anyone more beautiful than my muse.
She was lithe and willowy, her body swaying to the music carried along on the wind. Her happiest moments, betrayed by the soft curve of her lips, were those passing seconds when it was just her, nature, and the way she bent to her body’s whims.
I couldn’t imagine ever loving anyone more than I loved her.
It was a shame that things had to turn out this way. But I was desperate.
I had deadlines to meet.
I took the knife from my pocket.
Artists do mad things, don’t they?
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