“Work? With me?”, my heart tumbled in excitement. “Working with an actual muse?” I dreamt aloud: “With your magical intervention I sure will have the chance to defeat this nasty block, that held me back for much too long. Finally, I will become a true writer!”

Her look changed. “A writer? That is all you want? Don’t you have bigger dreams?”

“A bestselling writer”, I muttered insecure. A terrifying glimpse of boredom flitted over her face. “Can I be more than that?”, I asked quickly.

“How about you becoming an inspiration for others, a guide through artistic difficulties, a friend of those who seek for the sweet release that only art can offer.”

For a moment I thought about becoming an art-supply-salesperson, but fortunately I remembered who I was talking to: “You say, I can become a muse?”

She gave me her beautiful smile again. “Now you understand.”

“But..”, I stuttered, “but I am mortal. I can never become a divine creature like yourself!”

“You can’t”, she made clear. “But you can become a mortal muse.”

“A mortal muse”, I whispered. “Does such an inviting profession exist?”

“Of course it does”, said the immortal muse. “And you can be one of them. You just need to learn a few things and train yourself.”

“Where can I sign up for this intriguing adventure?”, I said aloud.

“You just have to pass the test, that’s all”, she said as a sparrow landed on her hand.

“What test?”

The sparrow performed a song about the wind with virtuosity. “Just a few tasks”, she said with a gentle smile, as she sent the little singer his way.

I have to admit, I had a bit of a bad feeling about this. But denying such an exclusive offer, just because I read a ton of old Greek myths, where it always ended disastrous for every mortal who encountered a divine being?

“Count me in!”, I said enthusiastically.

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