My Favourite Muse

by Atabo Mohammed

The drive to Maggie’s usually takes fifteen minutes; it took her just ten that morning. She didn't take the time to enjoy the peculiar happy feeling she used to have whenever she's on the way to Maggie’s. That feeling was replaced by a burning desire to decipher a new obsession. Her heart raced on it and she stepped on the accelerator with equal eagerness.

  But who's that actually; this Pablo? She needed not to ponder on how important the guy was to Maggie since his name happened to be her last word, but what did he do to warrant such importance? What role did he play in Maggie's life?

  As a medical doctor, wading into research happened to be one of the most interesting things she does. She loves it; makes brilliant predictions during pre-op analysis on whatever project she's wants to embark on, of which most ended with great breakthroughs. But this here is a different ball game. She's going into something she had no idea about; something that's highly unpredictable. What if the end results to something not good or something that can put her own life in danger? Oh well, danger is only a part in everything one wants to do. So when she pulled to a stop at the curb in front of the house, a feeling just downed on her that this isn't going to be good.

  Nicole waited for a minute to pull herself together before getting out of the car. Before now, Maggie used to peep out from the kitchen window on the slightest noise to see who was there. And whenever she sees Nicole, she goes to the door and opens it even before Nicole reaches the front porch. It was a treat Nicole once commented on.

  "I can’t help it, what do u expect from an old woman living all alone?" Maggie would say.

  Or she could catch the old lady doing her garden; trimming the lawn or planting new flowers or watering or just sitting there. "I love the smell of grass and flowers especially in the evenings. It reminds me of my childhood."

  A lump began to swell in Nicole's chest. She quickly got out of the car and walked briskly to the door. A minute more is enough to make her cry again.

  The spare key was where it used to be, under the black flower pot by the side walk. She took it, unlocked the door and went in.