the search for the final muse

Thus the experiment ends, with not a bang or a whimper, in any sense.

I pulled out of the online dating services I was on, having satisfied myself that I was wasting my time trying to read between the lines of evasively crafted profiles that brought to mind Ransom's description of the cold wombs in THAT HIDEOUS STRENGTH.

I like flesh and blood, and I have been attracted to, and drawn to me, in the past, people who would have never garnered a second look from me, or I from them, if we were just looking at a snapshot, a blurb and some stats.

I'll leave my profiles up, for future generations to find, but resolve myself to getting out there more often, looking for the final muse. I already have one extraordinary candidate, and others who, in the fullness of time, might exceed her if she is unwilling or unable to find what she wants in my sphere.

And I didn't pay $29.95 to meet any of them.