Unfinished Muse Read Online Free PDF

had raised me on stories of
angry goddesses, heroic deeds, and disobedient mortals, much like
other kids were brought up on fairy tales. Staring at the questions
on my sideways desk, it occurred to me that my entire life had been
a series of clues to my mysterious heritage, and that maybe the
reason I hadn’t lost my mind over the crazy shit I’d seen the last
few days was due to my mother preparing me for it all.
    Really needed to pay her a visit.
    My number-two pencil flew over the page and
filled in the lettered bubbles. A) Perseus. C) Hera. D) All of the
above. A) Andromeda. I wasn’t simply doing pretty well. I was
sailing through it. Mom was either getting flowers or a rant from
me when I saw her. Probably both.
    Long before Porn ‘Stache Randall called time
on the first section, I’d already finished and checked over my
answers. A few people around the room groaned. Papers shuffled.
    “Please turn your booklets to section two.
Do not begin until I instruct you to do so.” Randall the
Whisker-faced clasped his hands behind his back and sniffed so hard
I worried his moustache would disappear up his nose. He perched on
the edge of a desk and stared at his watch long enough to make
everyone uncomfortable in the silence. “Go!”
    The first question in the new section popped
the self-satisfied bubble of elation I’d been floating in.
    Q1: Under what circumstances would you
reveal yourself to your client? A. You and your client are
already acquainted in everyday life. B. The client is in mortal
peril. C. Revelation would assist in completion of the assignment.
D. The given assignment is flawed and requires alteration. E. All
of the above. F. None of the above.
    I hovered my pencil between mortal danger,
all of the above, and none of the above. How the hell was I
supposed to know anything about company policy? The question didn’t
even mean anything to me in the first place. Clients?
Revelation?
    Greek mythology had been a fun little trivia
quiz, but this made no damn sense at all. I thought I was training
for some sort of office job. Possibly even factory or retail work.
Clients? I sucked at working with clients.
    The best I could hope for was to wash out
before the end of the week so I wouldn’t have to follow through
with any of it. But then, I’d be back to where I’d started, with no
job, no money for the next month’s rent, and the very real threat
of having to move in with my mother. Again.
    I sighed and chose “All of the above.” Then
I erased it and chose “Mortal peril.”
    The rest of the questions weren’t much
easier or less mysterious. Several questions dealt with the
etiquette of mounting a winged horse. Another wanted my opinion on
love at first sight. Three questions were devoted to my possible
knowledge of arts and crafts, and two had to do with Ouija boards
and tarot cards.
    There was no rhyme or reason to the section.
None. And the answers could have been any of the choices given.
    When Moustache Randy called time, I’d only
made it through three-quarters of the section. On the bright side,
that was it for the day. I’d expected more sections, but apparently
two were enough.
    We all filed to the front and handed over
our bizarre tests and our number-two pencils. Oddly enough, Randall
seemed more concerned that he should receive all the pencils
than he was that the tests came in.
    “Mr. Turnbrook.” His beady eyes followed a
short, blond man on his way out the door. “ Two pencils, if
you please.”
    Mr. Turnbrook—I thought his name was Steve,
but I wasn’t sure—rummaged in his back pocket and found the second
pencil. “Sorry.” His brow wrinkled, and he shrugged as if he’d
genuinely forgotten but didn’t see what the big deal was.
    Randall sniffed again. That moustache
must’ve had a hell of a root system to stay anchored like that.
    Under Randall’s watchful eye, I dropped both
pencils into the box on the table and placed my test booklets and
answer sheets in their