{September 18, 2013}   Djinn And Lemonade ~ Muse Series

This whole walking through the desert thing is beginning to really piss me off.
Endless sand stretches out forever no matter which way I turn. Although there is the awesome bonus of a mirage here and there, it’s mostly just sand and wind and sun beating down on me.
As hot as it is I’m getting the chills, like that feeling you get when you have a fever and your skin gets all clammy and kinda hurts.
Dehydration may have something to do with it, I almost regret not actually drinking that Mojito G-Man made for me earlier but I keep thinking of Alice, in Wonderland everything wasn’t as it seemed so I’m doing my best to not fall into that trap, even though the only thing going through my mind right now is Snickers and lemonade.
Flashes of that white and blue striped tent in the distance along with the lovely scent of lemon faded in and out, but I had more important things to worry about.
Three miniature bottles stashed in my pants pocket are pulsing with some kind of energy and they’re scaring the hell out of me.
Three bottles of Djinn are no joke.
The whys and hows, reason and logic, none of that matters right now.
But teeny little pinpricks of memory start to tickle my mind, little tiny puzzle pieces were beginning to slide together, like I knew things, important things, yet I couldn’t quite unscramble my brain.
I was long overdue for a talk with my Muse. She had some explaining to do, not that I expected a full reveal but the least she can do is give me a clue.
I never thought writers block could lead me to this kind of craziness. I better get some damn good ideas when this is all over.
Also, by the way, nobody ever mentioned there would be a history test with this whole Solomon/Amadeus feud over a ring, and I don’t see anyway this could have anything to do with me, like why was I the big save?
It’s common knowledge I can’t even save myself, I’ve sure been told that enough through my life.
The mere fact that Musey gave me anything, never mind these bottles, was kind of suspicious in itself.
She hates me most of the time, then treats me like a pain in the ass little sister she’s stuck babysitting the rest of the time.
Plus the way her face was slowly morphing into mine was really weird. It must be a Muse thing.
I wish she’d stop popping in and out like that guy on that show Quantum Leap, at least on the show he tried to help Sam, my leaper just likes to drive me crazy.
I’ve heard of the wind whispering names but there’s no wind right now.
The air is hot but still.
Not a hint of a breeze anywhere.
I continue to walk west at a steady pace trying to ignore the haunting whispers calling my name.
They’re coming from the bottles.
When I put them away I put each one in a separate pocket of my cargo pants. I can’t take a chance, accidental breakage would be bad and the last thing I need is three Djinn ganging up on me.
“We’re here to help you Catt.” The voices are in my head. They sound like nothing I can properly describe, ancient, melodic, soothing and petrifying all at the same time.
“Let us out Catt, we can help you,” the whispered, seductively of course.
“Don’t even think about it!”
She does it again, appears directly in my path out of nowhere and of course, I jump back landing on my ass with a sandy thud, glad I had separated the three bottles.
“Gah!!! Stop doing that!!!”
“You can not let them out yet chica, it’s not time yet, it’s much to dangerous.”
She paces back and forth in front of me, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her look this unsettled.
“These three are the big guns. They’ve been trapped in those bottles for centuries because, well, as far as I know there is no-one alive who remembers exactly what they did other than your basic Djinn crimes and misdemeanors,” she shrugs her shoulders as she begins to fade from view.
“Hey! Don’t disappear on me now!” I hate the whining sound in my voice nearly as much as I hate being left alone yet again.
Too late, she was out of there before the sentence left my mouth, but not before one last kinda painful tug on my hair.
Letting out a cotton-mouthed sigh I climb to my feet muttering to myself. I’m tired, hungry and thirsty as hell and, as usual, alone and in need of, I don’t know, something.
I’d even be happy with a little bit of attention, the non-threatening kind of course.
All I wanted was something to write about, isn’t that what a Muse is supposed to do, provide inspiration?
I start walking west again, that damn mirage beckoning me is looking closer and closer with each step. Suddenly the only thing on my mind is ice cold lemonade.
to be continued…


alienorajt says:

Wow! That’s brilliant, Joanne: funny, quirky and full of atmosphere. xxx

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