Oh dear, it’s been a while since I posted. I’ll try to get back into it now. I have to do something with all my ideas!
Coe stood on the veranda and gazed along the strand. The next town down the line glittered and others shimmered beyond it. The strands radiating from the hub behind Coe all had strings of towns shining with their own light and life. Some were tall and silvery, others were sprawls of multicolour. All different, all beautiful.
Coe loved the web but could take no joy in it this evening. No muses had landed near this side of the hub for some time and Coe needed one. There was no spark, no rush of warmth and inspiration. Coe was flat and empty. There had to be a muse soon.
Moving onto the garden Coe rubbed hands together and stared up and out of the web. There! It was a small speck but it was getting bigger. Coe peered at it. There was a faint but growing buzz. It was coming straight at Coe.
The lights had blinded the muse and it plunged straight into the web. It landed on the strand at Coe’s feet. Caught and struggling to move. Coe’s fangs popped out, and plunging at the figure, they sunk into it. Coe fed.
Others soon came to the muse but Coe was now full. Straightening up Coe fizzed as the ripples of the muse’s power flowed. Coe had it now. Inspiration. How to make the house, the garden, more beautiful. What to write, paint and sculpt. Coe stretched, staring at the hub, watching the flurry of activity as everyone rushed off full of creativity. Coe savoured the feeling, not hurrying. The muses entrapment powered the cities and towns. Sparked the glow of the cobweb.
Behind Coe the muse staggered to its feet. Blearily it moved towards the centre of the hub. It had dull eyes and heavy limbs but it somehow knew where to go. Coe knew that the other muses would take the shell in, give it work. Muses had no spark left but could do simple tasks; cleaning, digging, cooking.
Coe turned to the house, needing to use the powers. But another buzz came from above. It rumbled louder than the muse. Coe turned back to see a massive shadow followed by a flock of others. Coe saw the bird’s long beak. It headed for the hub. It dived and hit the hub, the web. Strands shook, some broke and flew up taking the towns with them. The cobweb began to splinter, towns flying off.
Coe saw the hummingbirds all hit the cobweb. They ripped it apart. Shredded the strands. Destroyed the pattern. Shining towns plunged, screaming down. Spinning like falling stars in the night.
Coe clung to the doorway, unable to do anything. Towns and cities came to rest on the ground, sprinkled over the land any old way. The hub with them. Coe lay quivering. What would they do with no web. No muses.
The hummingbirds hovered overhead.
‘Find your own inspiration web-dwellers. You may not steal from others ever more,’ the largest bird hummed. Coe felt the words vibrate. The birds turned together and flew away leaving the web-dwellers bereft.
Coe couldn’t think, could hardly breathe. What could they do without that spark of life? Coe stared into the night. Dark and unknown.
Then Coe saw. The dark was full of lights. Stars sparkled. The air smelt sweet and tasted cold. Coe felt the earth. Coe felt the familiar ripple of joy. Coe was alive. Coe’s joy spread. Creativity was in the earth, the air. It was in Coe.