Melodramatic Muse

I watch the tiny monster watching me. Its beady eyes never leave my face, its smile a hungry sneer. It turns my stomach sour, but I can’t look away.

Panic strains against my chest. clawing to get out. A swell of terror poised on my lips, the slightest nudge from the demon enough to set it loose.

Images, unbidden, coalesce in my mind. Grand theater acted by characters I’ve never seen, words I’ve never heard, but still recognize. I direct the players at the demon’s urging.

A smirk splits his face, seeing my disquiet, “I’m no nightmare, I’m your muse.”