You’re yelling at me, destroying my concentration, as if I need another distraction to pull me away from my writing. Your undulating howls tear the air angrily, impatiently, mercilessly stealing everyone’s attention without regards to what it is they have abandoned for you. I wait for the whining to pass, listening to your wails, waiting for the tantrum to end so my brain can resume its function and concentrate, once again, on the page in front of me.

It will be a lost battle, though. You’ve ruined it, the moment, the clarity that comes with the muse, the quick tapping of agile fingers atop a keyboard. The rush of words filling the screen, blooming into fantastic worlds that carry the reader with adrenaline and awe. That perfect moment where universes are born. It is now lost, to your wailing, snapped away violently, without much choice, as you tear your way forward, vibrating the still air.

You are supposed to be in a hurry, rip through the streets and be gone, but you take your time, making me listen to you helplessly, unable to do anything else but witness as you step on the last embers of my concentration, pushing the universe in my mind to fade into oblivion.

How many imaginary worlds have you destroyed? How many adventures did your nip in the bud, how many epic heroic deeds and awe inspiring tales full of descriptive drama and feeling have you chased away, burst like tiny bubbles that pop out of existence, leaving only drops of whimsical visions and fleeting memories of tales that would have touched others deeply. In your quest, you are the hero, rushing loudly to save lives, not noticing that in your travels you push the onlookers aside, off the road full of good intentions, severing the tether between tale tellers and their imaginary creations.

The carnage you left behind is evident, the words lose their power, unable to hold a story together. The blank page is still empty, white and glaring. You have passed already, moved on to the next victim you rush to save, but soon there will be another, ready once again to chase the muse away.

Move quicker, Ambulance. Move quicker.

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