In the Lair of the Entropy God

Wow

In the words of Homer Simpson, "DOH!"

It's altar, not alter.

My sincerest apologies for my glaring usage error. Really. And for any others I missed. I really need to quit writing at 3am, but it seems to be the only time available if I want to write. Sleep is for those without the muse urging them to continue the tale. And the strange noises you hear are me dealing with sleep deprivation while trying to formulate a coherent sentence. Feel free to ignore the maniacal laughter as well. I only bite when provoked or if I have permission. Honest.

I had a great deal of fun writing this story, remembering what happened like it was yesterday. The world has changed a great deal since then. They have great grandchildren now and still go adventuring together like teenagers in love.

If you've made it thus far, thanks! On average, about 1/2 of 1 percent actually bother to vote. Voting is very nice, and feedback is great.

At fucking last!!! A writer who admits writing with a muse! I thought so much after reading your time-poem. Keeps you awake at night, don't they? Makes you agitated for not having pen and paper, well at least a pen, ready when you're on the toilet and they stuff yet another brilliant idea into your noggin? Introduces you to topics you have no hope of ever discussing with other people for the simple reason that they don't exist (the topics)? Well, welcome to hell (this could be a good or bad place, considering you really love it here, but wouldn't mind being left alone when you're on the toilet). I envy you. My muse left me when I chased him away after not being able to 'have sex without the aid of a pen'. Now he is sincerely missed. Skittish creatures for all their boisterous behaviour!

Okay -off to go read some more muse-saturated stuff! Thanx for lovely stories.
Evebroughtanaxthistime