Dreamers ~ Part 6

No matter how much Muse ate as a goddess (her loyal followers fed her well) she always awoke with a gnawing hunger in the other world.  She had learned long ago that changes to her body in one place did not happen in the other.  She had a scar on her leg from a car accident that did not exist in the world without cars.  Her well-fed half certainly had more flesh on it — not too much, but then again, the other had not enough.

She had two bodies and one consciousness, but even a rested body with a restless mind felt tired and worn.  She did not know what it was to sleep without dreams; or to dream at all.  Her dreams were all realities.

Lunch with Love became a regular thing.  It became so unspoken; they never agreed that she should always arrive around 12, even though her first student did not come till 3.  But one invitation became another, and another, until she came without being asked and he appeared to be expecting her, anyway.

She spent the two hours after lunch in the back room, her classroom, playing the piano for her own (and Love’s) amusement.  Sometimes she played the other instruments for sale, and she played them all equally well (which is to say, brilliantly) so some customers who overheard her wondered if she gave out lessons for those as well.

Muse was glad to teach anyone who asked, and still more, anyone who paid.  Soon she had to come to the music store in the mornings, to teach flute, violin, oboe, and guitar.  So soon she began to come before the store opened to eat breakfast with Love.

That was one world.

She did not even see him, in the other.

Every evening, just before she went to bed and woke up, Muse received a formal invitation to visit Love’s palace, for every night there was a party.  She had always received these invitations, though, and she had always ignored them before.  They were unthought-of things; an invitation was sent to every nearby god, goddess, and human; Love did not slight anyone.  But nor had she ever felt they were particular requests and so did not feel compelled to accept.

Nothing about the invitations had changed; there was never a personal note added, entreating her to come, and when she saw him at the music store he never mentioned it.  He never came to her cottage, though he could.  She did not, after all, live so very far away.