MEANWHILE. . . · 1:45am Sep 12th, 2018
. . . . Somewhere on Earth Prime. . . .
An odd looking alicorn pops into existence in a rather bland, not to mention messy, looking room. A rack of training swords hangs on one wall, next to a futon mat that is rolled out on the floor, a tatty pile of blankets half balled up on top of it, along with some old, flattened pillows.
A single wooden dresser sits opposite the mat, it’s top filled with an apparently random assortment of clutter, including, but not limited to, a bottle of eyeglass cleaner, a half used bag of cough drops (RICOLA!!!) a bag of old coins and a rubber dog toy in the shape of a green, spotted pig. The alicorn stops for a second and stares at this last bit and, unable to stop herself, reaches out and gives it a poke with one hoof. A terribly realistic sounding snort issues forth from the toy, and she leans back, quirking an eyebrow.
She was a pale grey in colour, with a straw blonde mane and tail with a bubblegum pink stripe, and she wears blue a pink striped stockings on all four legs. Her face, while it seems open and friendly enough, at present wears a mien of displeasure as she turns and frowns at the last item in the room.
It is a solitary, and rather battered looking, cheap second-hand computer desk, atop which sits a lonesome laptop. In front of the desk, there should be a simple, wooden chair where the user would sit whilst plonking out pony words. If he ever actually engaged in that activity, that is to say.
Instead of the chair, however, there was a large pile of used, soggy tissues which seemed to be . . . undulating, in a very disturbing way. With a look of distaste, the alicorn sidled up to the side of the desk and leaned against it. She cleared her throat with a small, polite sound. When this gained no response from the tissue pile, she repeated herself, a bit more sharply.
A strangled groan issued forth from the pile, and it shifted, some of the soggy mass separating from the whole and sliding down to the floor like the afterbirth of some monstrous labor. She grimaced and leaned away, as the face of the erstwhile author was revealed, puffy, swollen and looking rather tired.
She sighed, and shook her head.
”Really, Fyren? Really?”
“Whad? I’b sig!”
“I can see that, thank you! This is your vacation! How can you be sick?!”
“I dod do! You dink I’b habby aboud dis?!”
“You were going to write over the next few days! I freakin’ GAVE you the way to get back into the swing of things with Pony Plots, on a silver platter, I might add, and then you go and get sick?!”
“How id dis by fault?!”
“I hate you.”
“Whad?! B’ why?!”
“I don’t need to explain myself to you. Are you sure you’re sick? Come here!”
“Gah! Whad are you doing?!”
The alicorn pressed her hoof to his forehead and cheek, narrowing her eyes.
“Fyren. . . “
His eyes swent a bit wide and he looked around nervously.
“What? I mean . . . I bean, whad?!”
“You’re not sick! You don’t even have a fever!”
“But . . . Bud deh dissues! Whad aboud deh dissues!?”
“So you’ve got sinus problems, maybe a light head cold, that’s not the same as being sick! ANd it is NO EXCUSE! GET TO WORK!”
“It’s late! And I’ve spent all my energy writing this nonsense!”
“Fine! Get some sleep, then. But tomorrow, you’d better write something, buster!”
With that, the odd alicorn popped out of existence, and left a very tired, very stopped up human behind, typing on a keyboard while his nose dripped.
______________
Ladies and gents, meet . . . Muse. She is just that, the literal embodiment from the depths of my imagination of my muse. As such, she can be a bit . . . moody, at times. I promise, she is not usually this . . . well, bitchy, pardon my Prench.
And, yes, I got four days off work, all the time in the world to write. . . and promptly wound up with either a severe case of sinus problems or a minor head cold on the first day. >.<
So ANNOYING!
Anyway, I promise I will be writing soon. As she said, Muse popped in and gave me a very good lecture on what my problem is, the other day, and why I’m having difficulty with continuing Pony Plots. On that note, I now have the path laid out for how to continue, and hopefully it works out well.
Also, you can expect to be seeing more of our dear Muse, that’s a promise. 
Glad to see you get over your funk!
And Muse, please visit anytime.
Thank you for posting.