In the weeks to come, my beautiful muse from the park crossed my mind quite a few times. You see, he’d given me a much needed boost. I was able to come out of my dry spell and finally write again. Unknowingly, that boy had helped changed my world. And he would never know it.

On a mundane Monday morning, I walked into my boring office, ready for another routine day of work. Sarah, who shared my cubicle with me, was nowhere to be found. She was always at work first, armed with a grande latte and a massive smile.

I was just getting ready to question her absence up front when she breezed through the doorway.

“Isabel,” she breathed, “you’ve been keeping secrets from me.”

Before I had a chance to counter her accusation, Sarah thrust a piece of paper under my nose. This piece of paper looked oddly familiar. At a closer glance, I realized it held my own handwriting: “You are beautiful.”

“W-Where….”

Sarah pointed. My beautiful muse was standing in the conference room next door.