Skirta-The Dedicated Muse

After enduring only a few bitter wintry weeks, following holiday enthusiasm reported sales numbers, Skirta welcomed warmer weather, stepping out leaving her parent’s car in a space. Observing the parking lot setting noticing shining lamp posts pointing out a message, ‘melting ice serving Mother Earth one last chilled thirst quencher containing snow season ending mixed frozen elements’, the dedicated professional formally proclaimed, wanting ‘me time’.

Seeing the luring storefront glow, Skirta stuck her hands inside the fashionably designed jacket, protecting her business attire honest attitude. A couple hours removed since departing the cubicle lifestyle which fed upon her committed needs, Skirta seized the relaxing opportunity.

Pulling open the window style door, revealing books, she quickly tended to her fantasy agenda, dispensing reality replacing it with make believe. Browsing the romance aisle featuring cartoonish covers, she declared ‘not her cup of tea’. Next, the romantic comedy displayed realistic settings but at this time the negative plot lines weren’t the successful office worker’s interest.

Science Fiction horror selections were now center stage and immediately heard, ‘forget it’. Ready to give up she bumped into a promotion presenting a handwritten sign accompanied with one book.

“Local Author,” she mumbled, “I will give it a try.”

Picking it up, then cashier bound with credit payment in hand, “here,” she handed the Master Visa Card.

“Skirta, you left the concrete jungle and escaped here?” The teenager inquired, “that is a good book, I am sure you will like it.”

Taking the receipt and published work she owned, the visiting customer entered Jo Jo Java café. While waiting she inspected the book and found the pitch close, piercing her heart. Turning the fictional work over, the picture tease acted like a reflective mirror, “What can I get you?” The Jo Jo Java employee interrupted.

“Oh, I will have an espresso and,” Skirta paused, “one of those.”

Reliable Master Visa found itself swiped and Skirta occupied a dining area, sitting down. Engaging each page the story telling experience fulfilled its feel-good obligation explaining a love story which transported the executive into scenes her mind would imagine.

Delivery order distractions didn’t bother her as the writings were something she couldn’t put down. “I can really relate to the heroine, Jspareigojimas,” she commented finishing another chapter, “she is very committed like me.”

As the quick read resolution evolved displaying in words a white wedding dress Skirta smiled enjoying the concluding sentences. Closing the text, peering across the table a gentlemen modeling a three-piece suit waited for a review.

“I wrote that book,” he stated using a debonair tone.

“You’re a local author?”

“What do you think I was? An entry level clerk at a publishing company?”

“Skirta,” she introduced outstretching her hand, “ninth floor, Financial Dream Bank.”

“Mokinys,” he replied, “Eighth floor, Account Publishing.”

“I love this main character, she goes to work every day, climbed the corporate ladder with integrity, made decisions, and the final one.”

“She met her husband on the elevator rising to the top,” Mokinys continued the thought.

“Yeah, I love it, and will read it again,” Skirta confessed to the guilty pleasure.

“You were my muse, Skirta, your commitment dedicated spirit inspired me to accomplish the literary feat,” Mokinys informed reaching, grabbing, and clicking a pen “do you want me to sign your purchase?”

“Sure,” Skirta agreed.

Going to the proper blank spot, Mokinys left a message including phone number and signature.

Many residents and strip mall patrons later told the tale, Skirta no longer searched bookshelves. Instead, when she returned home from the city sky scrapers, she went next door and did bridal shop business, claiming special day preparations.