Inspire Me Ime
an excerpt

Chapter 1

Have you ever wondered what happened to all the characters, plots, settings and ideas after they were abandoned or forgotten? They find their way to the plane of existence where most thoughts go. For now we shall refer to this world as Shadows Realm. It’s in this realm that Ime exists.
Ime is a muse. Muses inspire humans to create artworks, music and stories using lost ideas within the Shadows Realm. She is rather famous particularly in her area, Shadowtown Downs.
Shadowtown Downs is a sleepy sort of village, set in the remote countryside. Surrounding the quaint almost rustic aesthetic of the village is a dense, green forest. However, as it is winter there, the forest is awash with snow.
Ime was walking towards the tavern this particular night. She was in need of a good drink after the news she had received from “Those Upstairs”. As well as that, Ime had arranged to meet her friend at the tavern as she owed him a drink.
Ime resembled a Greek goddess as she walked, the moon hanging high above her. Her golden hair, though tied at the back of her neck in a soft ponytail, wafted gently in the cold breeze. Her eyes were a light shade of blue and her lips were beautifully moulded into a soft yet sensual smile.
Ime was the product of a human artist whilst he was having a weird “trip” after digesting some nasty mushrooms. Ime wished her birth had been slightly more impressive. He had been slumped over a copy of Botticelli’s “The Birth of Venus” hence she had been a product of his wild imagination which he had tried for many months to cultivate into a beautiful artwork. However, it was not to be. Before he had completed his masterpiece he attempted to commit suicide though strangely enough it was not the cause of his death.
He was standing on the bridge, ready to jump. The day was perfect for it as well. The sky was grey and dismal and a gentle yet sorrowful breeze was blowing. The local police spent hours trying to convince him that life was worth living and to come down where they could “talk about it.” They succeeded in coaxing him down, sighing with relief as his feet finally touched solid ground. However, as he began thanking the officers for reminding him how precious life was, he was tragically hit by a truck. All thoughts of beautiful Ime slipped from his mind and there she stood a lost figment of his imagination. Ime knew something was not right as she stared at some part of her creator’s body feeling a sense of loss and bitterness. Yet as she began to think it over, she realised how ironic the situation was and thus, as she had been born from wild and strange ideas, so did her humour.
For a long time Ime spent time in her creator’s studio staring at the masterpiece that would have been her. It was hard for to come to grips with the fact she may never be born. In a single moment she felt lost, afraid and alone, knowing that this picture lacked life. It lacked her. She was a work of art yet she was incomplete. One day, as she stared at her portrait like she had done nearly everyday since she arrived at the studio she said, “I vow, here, in this place, in this time that some day, I will be complete.”
As Ime approached the warm, oak bar she could see signs that it was crowded with the many strange creatures of the imaginations of dreamers. There were fairies, unicorns, sad clowns and of course Barry, the Cyclops Bartender. Ime walked in, immediately scanning the room for her friend. It was not hard to spot him from where she stood. She knew him so well that it usually took next to no time anyway. He hunched over his drink, his eyes dark and sunken from many months of little sleep. His dark hair was tousled and in tangles from neglect. Her fingers twitched, wanting to take to it with a comb yet she restrained herself from drawing one from her pocket. She approached him quietly, though considering the loud, roaring atmosphere that was not hard. She took a seat beside him despite him making no movement. After a few moments he began to snore into his half empty glass of ale. Taking advantage of the situation she drew her comb and began to gently untangle his hair.
“I don’t envy him,” Barry the Cyclops Bartender rumbled with sympathy smiling as she tried to pry her comb through from the knots.
Ime yawned, her eyes almost as sunken as her friend’s, “I think his assignment is almost as bad as mine. I’ll have a whatever BC,”
“Coming right up,” Barry the Cyclops Bartender shuffled away a few steps. Ime placed her head in her hands and sighed, “You know what BC?”
“What’s that?”
“I really regret becoming a muse. It’s such a difficult task trying to inspire others when you need it almost as much as they do!”
“What is he working on the moment?” Barry the Cyclops Bartender placed a glass of Whatever in front of her. She eyed it for a moment before lifting it to her mouth. As soon as she tasted it she winced.
“It’s a cocktail.”
“Free range?” Ime asked, “You know my stance on cocktails,”
“Yeah it’s a free range. I have had this brew sitting there for a while. I thought you might like to try it.”
“That’s the danger of ordering a Whatever. You never quite know what you’re getting.” She gulped it down nonetheless.
“He’s been like that for a few hours now,” Barry the Cyclops Bartender said after a few moments as Ime struggled to catch her breath as the last of the Free-range Cocktail went down. He wiped the bench over as she indicated for another Whatever.
“Why’s that? When I last talked to him he said that the project should be nearly complete in a few months. We were even looking at a holiday some time in the next human year or so,”
“You mean in the summer don’t you?” Barry the Cyclops Bartender asked with a puzzled mono-brow. “I never understood why you kept making plans in human years,”
“It’s just easier when you’re dealing with their deadlines. What happened to his project?”
“The human he was trying to inspire had a falling out with her partner and tried to end it once and for all.”
“What? You mean she tried to commit suicide?”
“No. She tried to murder her partner.”
“Oh…” Ime trailed off. She began to scan her surroundings including all the figments of human imaginations.
Barry the Cyclops Bartender slowly placed a flaming glass down in front of her handing her a small tumbler of clear liquid along side it.
“What do you call this?” Ime asked with mild curiosity.
“This?” Barry the Cyclops Bartender frowned thoughtfully, “I am pretty sure it’s a flaming Grasshopper. What you do is you pour that liquid into the glass and after a few moments it flares up and then cools right down. I am not sure what it tastes like not many people order it.” There was some commotion in the back corner of the room. As Barry the Cyclops Bartender turned to look as Ime did, a chair came flying across the bar knocking the flaming grasshopper to the floor where it immediately burst into flames. Ime sighed, staring at Barry the Cyclops Bartender, “Shall we?”
“Yeah I need a break. You want to drag this thing here?” he asked, indicating to her friend still fast asleep.
“I’m not strong enough to lift him, you know that.”
Ime stepped around the flames, as Barry the Cyclops bartender picked her friend up with relative ease, leaving the bar to extinguish itself.
Outside the moon glittered above them as small flakes of snow fell gently to the ground. Ime shivered a bit as she had left her coat inside. Barry the Cyclops Bartender placed her friend next to her. He slumped, his head leaning on her shoulder as she casually slipped an arm around him to keep him warm and to also stop him from falling off the log they were sitting on. Barry the Cyclops Bartender took a large cigar from his pockets and lit it with an equally larger lighter. He puffed a few times before slowly letting the smoke trail from his large mouth into graceful spirals and patterns.
“You’re shivering,” he remarked as he looked over to his two friends looking more like depleted orphans than mighty muses.
“Yeah I am a little bit cold. But I am sure once the fire gets going in there it shall turn into a great bonfire.”
“Here,” Barry the Cyclops Bartender said placing his large coat over his friends. It was warm and smelt comforting as Ime wrapped it closely about herself and her friend.
“Poor guy,” the Cyclops remarked again after a few moments.
“There has got to be a way out of this muse business. This can’t be the only thing I am meant to do on this plane of existence.”
“You never got round to explaining what you’re next assignment is.”
“It’s worse than the last one by at least two times!”
“How can that be?” Barry the Cyclops Bartender asked trails of smoke billowing from his mouth. “I mean that one was pretty nasty.”
“The person whom is to be my client is going to write a world changing novel. He is going to make a profound difference to the people around him and also to the world because of his novel. At least that’s what the criteria say is going to happen.”
“Wow! Sounds like a big thing. Actually I would voucher that this may have something to do with those Upstairs. This might make your career Ime.”
“I know. That’s the scary bit.” She unconsciously hugged her friend closer to her.
He groaned as his eyes began to open, “Where am I?”
“You’re outside Max,” Barry the Cyclops Bartender smiled, “and don’t worry the person whom you are leaning on is Ime and the coat is mine,”
“Oh good,” Max yawned, “I’ve got nothing to worry about then.”
Ime noticed that the air had become very warm in the moment which had just past. As she glanced over to the bar she couldn’t help but noticing that it had become a little more than a pleasant bon fire.
“I think you might have to worry a little Max. We may have to find a new place to get good drinks.”