Taster

Who doesn't like free samples? (Nobody, apparently. Go to the Costco on a day that they're serving free food and watch the fun.)

Apart from being a little taster of The Muse, this is my life on a regular basis. Yes. Really.
***

Alice. Alice. Alice.

 

Alice sighed. Layne had perked up dramatically over the last few days. She felt guilty as hell admitting it, but she’d almost liked him better when he was sick-and quiet.

“What.”

You need to get a white cat.

“Huh.”

When it sits on your lap you can rub your hands together like you’re some kind of evil genius.

Really?

Although…that did sound kind of fun.

“Maybe.”

Awesome. Hey, go turn your laptop on.

Aw, man! She’d rather been enjoying her little break.

“Do I have to?”

Young lady, if you don’t march your ass over to that computer right now, I’ll start without you!

Pfft. Like he would really do it. He was still woozy.

“Whatever, Layne.” she snickered. “I’m gonna get a bowl of ice cream.”

She was just scraping the ice cream-hard as a rock, what the hell, man?-when he piped up again.

I was thinking we should kill John now. Maybe with some well-placed apple seeds-you’re by the laptop, right?-in his drink.

“Shit! I’m going, I’m going!”

She heard him cackle and envisioned him grinning like a homicidal maniac. Jeeze Louise, what had she done to deserve this? Did other writers go through this? If they did, she needed to write a self-help book or something.

Whatever. That would imply she had a handle on him. She envisioned Layne with a beaded purse handle sticking out of his spine and cringed. That was just not right.

“Okay, the laptop’s on now.” There was no answer. “Layne?”

Changed my mind. Go back to your ice cream.

Sadist.