THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS

hehehehehehe I like. More soon. And you still haven't answered my question?! This is so...stop distracting me with music of the night! I want answers.

Wait, more love making? Are they selling tickets?

Oooo lovly ending.
sorry i havn't been posting as much... life ya know.
But, this is such an awsome phic. Love it!
only three more chapters?!
I can't waite!

Aww, now what wouldn't I give for a storybook love such as this?

Very good chapter once again, my friend, I can't wait to see what the rest may bring. Please do continue soon, I am waiting anxiously.



D

Heart_Rose thank you for the kind words. Your comments are always welcome.

Devine_Muse thank you for a lovely review. Always a pleasure to see you.

Slitherliggie so happy you enjoyed the chapter.


Sadly, I must end the story, therefore, here is the final chapter and epilogue. I hope this will answer your questions with a new spin on Phantom Phan Phics.

Once again, I must use two postings due to the length of the chapter. Please R&R. Enjoy!

****************************************************
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

Christine’s Dressing Room 2006


Tommy and Kimee wanted to call it a day. They had sat in Christine’s old dressing room for a couple of hours now. Even with Twanda, Doone and Christine present, talk had dwindled to a minimum.

Twanda began to yawn and stretch when the mirror became cloudy. Everyone’s attention turned to the looking glass.

When the clouds dispersed, there before them stood Mae in a simple flower print dress with long sleeves and V-neckline. The dress clung to her curves, forcing Doone to jump up with joy and desire for her. Next to her stood Raoul, le Vicomte de Chagny.

Almost as if planned, both Raoul and Doone quickly moved to the mirror shouting the names of their women. As they simultaneously touched the glass, each passed through in a flash of white light, leaving Doone with Mae in the 19th Century and Raoul in the present; they’d swapped places.

“Nooooo!!!!” shrieked Mae, as Doone embraced her. Holding her seemed like giving a child free reign in a candy store. He kissed her face and mouth with the heat like he’d never before known.

Raoul grabbed the stunned Christine and held her like he’d never let her go. Tommy and the others exchanged looks. Mae shrieked, “Nooooo!!!”

In seconds, Christine and Raoul engaged in a rather long passionate kiss. “What just happened?” the question popped in everyone else’s mind.

When the sweethearts finally came up for air, Christine made a chilling statement that upset everyone but Doone and Raoul.

“Now I have no reason to go back. My Raoul is here. We can live out our lives happily ever after, like in a fairy tale,” Christine smiled a wicked smile as she clung to the Vicomte’s arm.

“Now she had no reason to go back? What just happened?” wondered the majority of the group.

Finally Mae broke away from Doone, who now clad in a dark suite and cloak much like the Phantom’s. He hadn’t swapped clothes with Raoul as Mae had done with Christine.

However, Raoul was dressed in the black shirt and jeans, which Doone was wearing.

Doone tried to reason that things had now happened the way they should have. Mae and he could live as the Phantom and Christine while Raoul and Christine would enjoy the 21st Century. Mae protested in no uncertain terms.

“What are you doing? She was supposed to trade places with me and somehow I’d find a way for Erik to pass through,” she tried to explain, nearly in tears.

“Erik? But I am Erik,” Doone didn’t know what else to say. How could he explain that he had become the Phantom?

“No, no, no! Erik. My Erik. My husband!” Mae held up her left hand and pointed to the gold wedding band.

“Husband?”

“You guys didn’t tell him?” Tommy and the others shook their heads. In all of the excitement, they had forgotten, even Twanda, after knowing how Doone felt.

“Y…you married the Phantom? The ‘real’ Phantom? But Mae, I…I love you,” stammered Doone, his heart sank. Erik’s bride could see the hurt look on his face.

“Doone, I didn’t know. You’re in love with me? I…I’m sorry.”

“My bad. I should have told you,” tiny tears, like small pearls fell from his eyes.

For a moment, Mae became speechless. Even didn’t think this should have happened the way it did. He had wanted Christine to return with him to their own time. They had such great plans for their marriage, even if they had to elope. But this exceeded all expectations.

“Now what do we do?” Twanda puzzled.

Christine said nothing. She just smiled and cuddled with Raoul, who remained in shock over her blond hair. Then Doone declared that he wanted to remain in 19th Century Paris. Another chill ran through Mae and the others, except for Christine. Even Raoul shuddered.

At last, Mae tried to reason with her. But Christine wouldn’t hear it. Since her sweetheart had crossed over into the present with her, she had nothing to go back to. For the moment, his curiosity about this new century made him want to stay, just a little. So the two sauntered out into the lobby.

“Tommy, you and Kimee watch them. Don’t let them get away. We need to figure this out,” Twanda was exasperated. Tommy and Kimee hurried to catch up with the lovers.

Suddenly, a dark winged shadow loomed up from behind Doone and Mae. Twanda gasped and jumped back.
“Who the devil is this?” The real Phantom spoke. The two men stared each other eye to eye, even if the real Phantom wore his white half-mask.

“Doone, this is my husband Erik, aka the Phantom, aka the Opera Ghost,” Mae stepped back as she gave the intro.

Doone still didn’t feel quite himself. His Valley-boy demeanor had vanished. He drew himself up to his full height, clicked his heels together and gave a slight bow. “A pleasure monsieur.”

“This is Doone? The one whose writing is like the notes I send to the managers?” The Phantom stepped back and eyed him suspiciously. Mae nodded.

“I want to be you.” The Phantom puzzled at his statement. Mae and Twanda still couldn’t believe their ears.

Doone openly admitted the mistakes that caused him to lose Emma to the real Ehrich, but since he could see that they really wanted to come into the present, he would willing remain, and take the Phantom’s place.

“Take my place? What are you talking about?” The Phantom looked from Doone to Mae. “Do you know what he’s talking about?” Then he looked at Twanda, who shrugged.

“Doone, you can’t stay here. This is not your time,” Mae tried to understand.

“You want to go with Mae to a time that’s not yours, right?” The real Phantom nodded. “I will stay here. I will become you. Remember, we can’t change history.”

His words struck a cord in the Phantom. We can’t change history. A profound statement made by both the Persian and Mitra the Seer many years ago. Could this be the meaning? This had to be why the mirror guide and the Persian told them to take Raoul to the mirror. Did the Dargo know this would happen?

“I know everything about your home by the lake. Some things are still a blur, but you can refresh my memory.”

“You don’t have to do this, Doone…” Mae started.

“Oh, but I do. I must. There is nothing for me at home. My dad would never miss me. Why do you think he paid for this trip? To get me out of his hair. I can make a new start here. I can be somebody…the Opera Ghost. Then nothing will change in history,” became set and determined. At last, he had come home.

“Come, there is much to discuss,” the real Phantom beckoned them to follow him. ‘You have two separate yet intertwining destinies running parallel to each other.’ These words now had meaning. He knew what to do.

Upon remembering Twanda, he paused, turned to her and nodded, “A pleasure to meet you, mademoiselle. Until next time.”

“But Mr. Phantom, sir and Mae, we’re leaving Paris the day after tomorrow. We’re going home.”

They didn’t have much time. Doone asked her to have everyone back to the mirror at noon on the day of departure. He exchanged looks with the Phantom. They had a plan.

In the lair, Doone found himself quite at home. Erik and Mae couldn’t have been more surprised.

He knew where everything was, even the coffin beneath the bed. The torture chamber existed just where he remembered it. He found every trapdoor and every counterweight.

The men bade Mae to allow them some alone time, as Erik wanted to see if Doone could find his way in and out of the labyrinth and to have a little man to man talk.

Erik marveled at how much Doone really knew. No one but he, the Phantom, the true Opera Ghost really knew the labyrinth, until now.

Actually, there really wasn’t much to know in taking over as the Opera Ghost. Extort 20,000 francs from the managers once a month. Make a few threats, but be dignified about it. If anyone dare disobey, drop a few props down around them and they’ll scramble like frightened mice to repent for their disobedience.

When slipping in and out of the shadows of the Opera House, make sure you’re seen by at least one person in the evening so they can carry on the tale of your haunting.

Always make sure you quickly vanish into the shadows, secret passages or trapdoors. Never get caught. Play tricks on the cast and crew to scare them whenever possible.

The only thing Doone felt unsure of; the skillful use of the Punjab lasso.

During the few hours they had left, Mae busied herself about the house cleaning and packing what she wanted to take home with her. When she glancing out the window, the electric bell sounded the alarm or signal that someone approached the portcullis.

Mae went out to the shoreline and stood by the lever, which controlled it. Daroga, the Persian, stood alone in a boat. She pulled up the lever to allow him entrance.

After he docked the boat and secured it, Daroga leapt upon the shore and greeted her cheerfully. Then he asked for Erik. When she explained, she found it odd that he should laugh.

“This doesn’t surprise you, does it Daroga? You knew what would happen when I took the Vicomte to the mirror, but why? How will we get out of here?” she demanded some answers.
“Things have a way of working out. You’ll see. I just wanted to know if you and Erik were well after…” but before he could finish, a loud ‘crash’ sounded in the torture chamber.

Mae and Daroga rushed into the house, straight to the Louis-Philippe bedroom. There they heard a rustling and scrambling, followed by the Phantom’s voice, booming from overhead addressing Doone.

After a little commotion, Erik entered the house through a secret passage in the corner by the organ, scaring the living daylight out of his wife and Daroga. Laughing, he greeted them, grabbing the ‘little bag of life and death’ from off the organ and headed toward the Louis-Philippe bedroom to release Doone from the torture chamber.

“I told you to turn right,” lightly scolded Erik as he opened the door.

Doone emerged a bit flustered. “I did turn right,” he grumbled a bit disheveled.

“Then you should have turned to your other right. Next time you’ll remember.”

When Daroga gave Doone a welcoming hug, as he would a long lost friend or relative, a spark of recognition flashed between them. Daroga knew he was the one. History would not change. Paris still had its Opera Ghost and Gaston Leroux still had his novel.

The Persian left, after asking Doone to visit him later for a man-to-man talk. Mae became more and more suspicious. Even worse, she noticed the Punjab lasso dangling in Doone’s hand.

“Erik!” By now the Phantom knew something troubled his wife by her tone of voice.

“What?” She caught his eye and nodded to the lasso in Doone’s hand.

“Oh, that. He had to know.”

“No he didn’t. Not the lasso.”

“Would you rather he used your broadsword?” he taunted his wife.

“He doesn’t have to…”

“We can’t change history.” The words stung her. She knew he was right.

“He learns quickly. Not nearly as good as I, but close.”

The three stood on the lakeshore. Even Erik didn’t want to pressure Doone into staying, but he insisted.

“This is something I have to do. Micha gave me his spell book,” he drew the book from his inside coat pocket.


CONTINUED IN THE FOLLOWING POST

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE CONCLUSION

“Micha? The gypsy boy with Snow White’s witch?” Mae recalled.

“Yes. Brianna. She really was a witch…”

“Did you say, Brianna?” Mae and Erik exchanged looks.

“Yes. Why?”

“You may want to warn him.”

“No need. I know I have to vanquish her here. She remembered me.”

Erik shot him a look. “I won’t ask. I don’t want to know. The spell book will help you with the parlor tricks you need to play on the cast and crew of our Opera House,” he gave a hearty laugh and Doone joined him.

Side by side, the two really looked like twins, especially when Doone wore a mask. Truly amazing!

At last the time came for the final meeting at the mirror. Tommy, Kimee and Twanda had to literally drag Christine and Raoul. The couple had enjoyed movies, popcorn, a ride in a taxi, and a brief tour of modern day Paris.

Raoul especially enjoyed the musical film, “The Phantom of the Opera”. For along time they could hear him mumbling, “I won. I won. I love this movie.”

Finally, the solemn moment arrived with Mae, Erik and Doone on one side of the mirror and Raoul, Christine, Tommy, Kimee and Twanda assembled on the other.

Christine gasped and staggered back when she actually saw the real Erik. “My Angel of Music? Is that you?”

“Yes Christine, it is I.” For a moment, she contemplated switching Raoul for the Phantom. While Christine and Raoul bickered over her ogling at Erik, Mae turned to Doone one last time.

“Doone, you really don’t have to do this. What will we tell your father?” Tears glistened in her eyes.

“I have nothing to go back for. I have no job, no place of my own. My dad will be glad I’m gone. Here I have a home with a steady income.”

“I hardly think money extorted from the managers is steady income,” retorted Raoul as he turned away from his obstinate lover.

“Don’t listen to him…” Mae started.

“I know you love Erik, the real Erik. You and I can never be. The only reason I’d return would be for you, but you’d never be mine. Go! Be happy with your husband. He loves you very much.” Then he looked at Christine. “It is time,” he stretched forth his hand to her.

For a moment, she hesitated. The two Phantoms looked nearly identical. They both appeared dashing and somewhat erotic, but then she shook her head and came back to realty. “No!” she said firmly. “I don’t want to go back.”

He knew she’d do this. This time he came prepared. A nod of his head signaled Mae and Erik to be ready. Raoul nodded. Christine seemed clueless.

Softly, gently Doone began his sweet serenade, hailing his Angel to come to him. His golden tones seduced her, wrapping themselves around her like grapevines entwined in a trellis. All thoughts of the world around her fled. Her soul floated on an ethereal mist as Christine walked to him as though in a trance with Raoul close behind.

Again there flashed the white light, as they melted into the glass, Mae and Erik emerged into the present, each carrying a small black bag. They had made it and were allowed to bring some choice items as well.

Tommy and the girls embraced them, though they grieved at the loss of their friend, Doone.

Tommy and the others watched Doone lead Christine deeper and deeper into the lair with Raoul in tow. They never looked back. In a moment, they vanished and the mirror returned to normal once more.

“Will we ever see Doone again?” Kimee groaned she felt sad to see him leave.

“I don’t know. I hope so,” Mae too felt sad, but happy to be home.

“So, this handsome thing here is your husband. Shame on you girl! Keeping a hunk like this a secret,” Twanda grinned and gave Erik a welcome- hug.

“Handsome thing?” Erik puzzled.

“You don’t know?” asked Tommy. “Look in the mirror.”

When Erik turned around, the reflection he saw astounded him. His mask had disappeared, but so had his deformity. The skin no longer looked like yellow parchment or his ear hardly an ear. Both sides of this face appeared whole, and strikingly handsome.

Gingerly he touched his face and chest, afraid that if he woke up, this new happy world would collapse. But it didn’t. He had not dreamt it. His wish had come true. Now he could live like any other man, with a wife he could take for rides through the park on Sunday.

“Since you’re the new Paris heartthrob you won’t want me anymore,” his wife teased as she hugged him tight.

“Don’t ever say that,” he smiled and kissed her tenderly. “I will love you beyond eternity.” Again he gave her a long and passionate kiss.

“Hey!” Tommy playfully interrupted. “Kiss later. We got a plane to catch.”

“That’s right. Check your pockets, Erik. See if Doone’s boarding pass t is one of them.” Erik obeyed and sure enough he had it.

Tommy and the others raced out of the dressing room, leaving them alone for a moment. As they turned to leave, a voice called to them from the looking glass. The Persian’s form appeared through the mist.

“Daroga? How?” Erik was surprised.

“I just want to say good-bye for now. I hope that you will both be happy,” the mirror showed him from the waist up. He beamed with happiness for his friends.

“You are the spellcaster, aren’t you?” Mae narrowed her eyes at him.

“I confess. I am the spellcaster.”

“And my face?” questioned Erik, still baffled.

“The serum healed you completely. You saw what I wanted you to see. Just a little Persian magick. May Allah smile on you both.”

“Will we ever see you and Doone again?” Erik felt saddened at the thought of loosing his friends.

“Who knows what Allah has in store for us?” As the last words fell from his lips, his image began to fade. Erik and Mae both called out to the fading figure, but he vanished before they could thank him.

A million questions still rattled in Mae’s brain, but her husband hushed her with another kiss. Her lips parted and his tongue found its way into the sweet depths of her little mouth. The flames of passion again engulfed them.

The two Eriks had finally found their destinies. The first in the arms of his wife in the 21st Century and the second in bowels of the Opera House, singing songs in the head of Christine Daae.

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EPILOGUE

Leroux’s novel remained unaltered and history unchanged, as Doone, now the true Phantom, carried out each and every incident outlined in the book.

The real Erik never completed Don Juan Triumphant. He had left it with Doone, who did. It had become his reason to live as he dealt with the soprano’s unrequited love.

Reversing the spell had erased all memories of Mae’s visit from everyone’s mind except for Doone and the Persian.

When Christine responded to L’Epoque’s article, Erik is dead; she found the portcullis to be a solid wall ready to be lowered by pressing the counterweight. It had been left open for her to pass through in the boat.

Lying by the fountain, the Opera Ghost appeared to be dead. Here, she wept and slipped the gold wedding band on his finger as she had promised the day he freed her and Raoul. Now, truly free, the awful truth that the ethereal voice of her mentor was silenced forever pained her heart, and gnawed at her insides. Never again would that beautiful voice stir her passion and claim her soul.

A note still in his hand, explained where to find the counterweight to eternally seal him in his home, now his tomb.

Micha, the young gypsy had bestowed a two-part gift upon Doone that rivaled the Persian’s magick. The first part enabled him to walk through dimensions with little or no detection, as he did when he looked down upon himself and the others from atop the Opera House, and when he watched himself and Mae pretending to be the Phantom and Christine when they broke into Box Five.

The second part of Micha’s gift permitted Doone to return to his own time when and if he chose. This gave him a way to leave our history unchanged, but yet not final to him. He also had two separate yet intertwining destinies running parallel to each other.

In any event he had come home to find out who he was, now he knew where he belonged. After all, who knows what Allah has in store for us?

Wow. more later, too late now. so just wow.

Brava brava bravisma

Thank you Heart_Rose. So pleased you enjoyed the story. I hope this answered all of your questions.

Therefore, the next time you read Leroux's novel, remember who Erik really is.

Very very good! Surprising ending. I like the idea of Doone's fate not really ending when "Erik's" did.

You did a very nice job with the entwining story lines, my friend. Congratulations on a very very good story which is extremely well-written.

I sure hope there will be more of your stories available soon!!!



D

Slitherliggie thank you for a beautiful compliment. So happy you enjoyed the story and the surprise ending. Too often we see Phan Phics which pick up after the movie or the original novel. Sometimes we see time traveling without a decent explanation. Here I combined the essence of Leroux's work and the 2004 film. And to make it even more creative, my story begins just before Christine actually meets her Angel of Music. Gives the writer more room for the imagination.

In this way, it lends more credibilty to the existance of Erik and whether or not he's still alive. Makes the reader think.

Yes, I will be writing more. Thanks again!

Wonderfuly done. I give you a standing ovation. A truly great phic. And such an awsome ending!!! I truly enojyed reading this, thank you for sharing your creativity. You kept me hooked to the last word.
Brava, my friend

Thank you Devine_Muse! What a lovely compliment! It makes my heart feel good to know that you and others enjoyed the fruits of my labor, in this case, writing.

Perhaps someday I can get this one published. My current publisher said that it was too complex for young Americans to understand. I think we've proven him wrong here. Whoo hoo!

Thank you, thank you. Who knows what Allah has in store for us?

One thing I noticed, but leaving it out doesn't make or break the story, I left out one chapter; chapter thirty-nine. It was more or less tying up loose ends for the chaperones and the emotions of others.

If you want I'll post it, otherwise, you've read the best parts.

Thank you to all.

It could be interesting to read, I was wondering what happened to them... If you wanna post it, go right ahead,




D

Thank you Slitherliggie. In all the rush of a busy life and having Internet problems, here is chapter thirty-nine which ties up a few loose ends. It's not very long.

Please R&R. Enjoy!

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CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

Hotel Paris 2006

Betty Carlyle would have normally screamed, ranted and raved and perhaps have a complete nervous breakdown after hearing what had happened at Sacré Coeur and to Linda Peters, her fellow chaperone, but since Betty herself now had a couple of gentlemen suitors, a new hairdo and a trendy new wardrobe, she accepted whatever the kids told her with a smile.

“You did hear us, right? Miss Peters took off with some guy she just met,” Tommy repeated, in case Carlyle didn’t understand him the first time.

Betty Carlyle, the salt and pepper hair now the thing of the past, beamed with a girlish glow, as soft chocolate colored locks framed her face in a most flattering way. The touch of makeup added a natural hint of color to the eyes and lips, along with the bit of blush on her dainty cheekbones.

Though still a bit rotund, the silky royal blue dress enhanced her natural voluptuous curves, giving her an ever so feminine, fetching look.

“I heard you,” she smiled softy. “Good for her. Hope she has a good life.”

Tommy exchanged confused looks with Twanda and Kimee. Christine and Doone said nothing.

“If you young people will excuse me, I have a rendezvous,” Carlyle glided past them through the lobby, where two very tall, distinguished gentlemen met her, both with dark hair. One wearing a polo shirt and designer jeans, the other donned a captain’s hat, complete with a white slacks and a navy blue jacket like those worn by the captain of a yacht.

Polo shirt took her hand and kissed it seductively. “Why Betty, you look simply ravishing. I can’t believe you’re haven’t remarried,” he remarked with a distinct French accent. She giggled and blushed.

Capt. Yacht took the other hand and ever so gently steered her to himself. “Don’t listen to him, Betty. He’s being a knave. I know that you’re just taking your time in choosing the right man, and I do pray that man is me,” his refined British accent secretly embraced her, almost mesmerized her, as he kissed her hand as well.

She took both by the arm and disappeared through the main doors of the hotel lobby.

“Who would have thought…Mrs. Carlyle?” Tommy frowned. Twanda and Kimee shook their heads.

“Look at it this way, we don’t have to explain ourselves anymore,” Christine grinned. The others agreed.

Still Doone said nothing. His mind wandered back to the 19th Century. Too many things swirled around in his head. The need to return to the mirror in Christine’s old dressing room became urgent as did the need to do something, but he didn’t know what.

Even though Christine still had mixed feelings between Raoul and Doone, she knew how he felt only she would rather stay in the here and now if she could. Especially, since Doone had become the Opera Ghost.

She had suggested that they remain and explore their relationship, but Doone’s heart would not allow it. A strange longing to return to the Phantom’s lair gnawed at him. He wanted to see it once again, not as in our dimension, lying in ruin, rotting within beneath the opera house, but through the mirror, the way it used to be.

Tommy asked to see Micha’s spell book, but Doone had it tucked deep into his shirt and would not remove it. He knew that Micha would help, even with only the spell book, and he guarded it like gold.

“Dude, you’re no fun anymore. You don’t even sound like you,” Tommy spat a retort, as he plopped himself down on the round sofa next to Kimee. “You don’t even wear your tie-dyes anymore.”

“Maybe I’ve out grown tie-dyes. Sorry, guys. I just miss Mae. Too much has happened and I’m still spinning. I’m going to the Opera House,” Doone said as he rose to his feet and headed for the main door. The others followed.

A heavy silence hung in the air as the five stood in front of the full-length mirror in Christine’s old dressing room. Doone touched it gingerly, but nothing happened. It looked like an ordinary mirror.

“The old gypsy kept saying find the original spellcaster. How do we do that?” Kimee wondered aloud, as she too touched the mirror.

“Maybe we could just call for them,” offered Twanda. Everyone shot her a questioning look. “It was just a suggestion. I don’t know how.”

Doone drew the spell book from inside his shirt. Carefully, he turned to the tab which read, “Through the Looking Glass: A Walk through Dimensions.” A couple of sentences said something about finding the original spellcaster, but it involved the use of the black mirror, which Micha had used earlier, and he really didn’t want to return to the gypsy’s shop for it, because it stirred too many sad memories. They would just have to wait, as Inèz had said. Go to the mirror often and wait. Something had to happen.
***************************************

Hope this isn't confusing since all of you have read the ending. Let me know what you think.

Ooh, two of them? Now that sounds like she's got it good...

No, not confusing at all, actually it fills a tiny hole, which i didn't notice before, just nicely...

It seems right that Doone would miss something. And I think it's sweet of Christine to want to "explore their relationship"...


D

Thank you Slytherliggie for the kind words. You are right, it was a tiny hole that needed to be tightened up. Since you already knew who Doone is, this chapter makes perfect sense. Interesting twist wouldn't you say?

Carlyle and the other young people add a bit of humor to the plot.

Glad you enjoyed. Would you like a sequel? I was thinking of one called Erik's Journal. Of course it would be another novel, but mainly centered in the present. What do you say?

Yes, I really liked the twist. Makes one look at the whole story in an entirely different way...

Hmmm, Erik's Journal... Sounds good to me, , I'm already hooked and you haven't even started writing yet...

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I finally got around to reading this (a bit late, I know).
I've never read a phanfic like this before, defiantly very unique (I don't
read a lot of fanfiction but I find they are all usually very similar).
I thought Erik and Mae moved a bit fast, but otherwise I'm glad I read
it.
Great creative-writing inspiration!