My Muse

Emily laughed as she teased Thompson, stealing his props and costumes to wear for herself as she posed dramatically for his camera. She stole his coat and hat, pretending to be a proper English gentleman.

"Emily! Be serious!" the young photographer pretended to complain, but he was smiling just as broadly as the playful Emily was.

"Now good sah', don't but'er me crumpets like 'at!" Emily pretended to complain her best cockney accent.

"What does that even mean?" Thompson laughed.

"No idea," Emily laughed with him, voice returning to normal. She finally removed Thompson's hat and coat from her body, setting them back down beside all of his other props and camera equipment.

"Anyway, what kind of picture were you hoping to capture today?" the redheaded inmate asked her dearest male companion.

"Hmmm," he rubbed his chin. "Well, since you are my muse, I was thinking about letting you try out some poses you like, and then I can just use one of those! You always have such beautiful pictures!" he said and Emily blushed in reply.

"If you really insist on letting me take creative license," she began.

"I'll still step in here and there," Thompson replied.

"Then I'd be happy to help," Emily finished. "But you'll have to accept what I do as what I do," she warned.

"Of course, my muse, go ahead," Thompson gestured for Emily to do her best, so she trotted happily back over to the place where she'd tossed Thompson's coat and hat. Thompson gave her a withering look.

"I get full creative control right now!" she warned him playfully as he pretended to cry out in despair. She was as fiery as her hair.

"I meant for you to be serious!" he cried.

"What if I am being serious?" Emily replied, not being serious at all, but Thompson actually took her at her word and considered it.

Hmmm, it would definitely be a new and intriguing photograph, to have a woman in men's clothes. But perhaps there could be some artistic value to the idea. He could say it was symbolic of the friendship between himself and Emily in that they felt comfortable enough to share jackets. By proxy, the picture would represent the larger friendship between males and females that this asylum was meant to value. This whole place was an institution run by men for women, what could be more charitable across the sexes than that? And what better way than to display it in the playful manner Emily was presenting to him? What better way to represent the friendship between the male and female sexes than to show that the female felt comfortable enough to horse around with the male and do silly, innocent little things like steal his coat and hat? It was cross-dressing, yes, but of a strictly innocent nature. There wasn't supposed to be any innuendo in this photo at all. Thompson's eyes lit up as, once again, his muse inspired him. He would take this picture and this would be the one he would use! His boss might think it was strange, but if he could explain the symbolism behind it, the photo could become a masterpiece!

Emily was surprised that he actually seemed to be listening to what had been a mere joke on her part, but as he began to eagerly direct her here and there to finalize the shot, she felt a rush of pleasure course through her veins. There was something so incredibly wonderful about having a playful idea being validated, accepted and welcomed with enthusiasm, especially by a friend. It made Emily feel warm and fuzzy inside that Thompson had not only taken her idea seriously, but that he had actually somehow seen some value in it beyond a simple joke. It made her feel good for her to think that he thought so highly of her that he even took her jokes seriously. She was sure her face was as red as her hair now.