Looking almostlike Jesus on the cross, her arms spread out, her legs splayed slightly,every inch of her bathed in warmth and sunlight, while all aroun... herwas devastatingly wet and dour. His precision and technique were other-worldly, and I was in awe again.Then what he'd just said registered in my head."Was?" I asked, and turned to look at him again. "She 'was' your muse?Does that mean she's not anymore?"His eyes came back to mine, and they narrowed somewhat. He still hadn'tlet go of my. He felt terribly light-headed. Something wasn't right. He was having hot flashes. He stood, legs shaking beneath him, and walked to the bathroom.He stared at his reflection. Something seemed weird about his reflection, but it was something he couldn't quite place. There were two or three blonde hairs hanging from his black flattop. Must be Jennifer's, he thought. He pulled them off his hair and was surprised when he felt a sharp tug and pain in his skull. It was like he'd pulled out one. More

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