Welcome to the daily Three Things Challenge.
Use your imagination and creativity using one, two or all three words that may or may not be related. There are no restrictions regarding length, style, or genre, though please keep it family friendly.
Tag your responses with 3TC, #threethingschallenge or TTC, and you can add Di’s logo if you wish.
Your three words today are:
THRUST
TRUST
CRUST
Even though Genevieve (pretentiously pronounced the French way: Zhan-vee-EV) had trust issues, she kept plugging away at making a relationship work. Her latest project was a guy named Dominic. He was a painter (art, not walls) and single. Genvieve knew this for sure because she ran a $25.00 background check on him.
Dominic was a bit eccentric in that every day at 11:30 he had to have a grilled pimiento cheese sandwich with the crusts cut off. So, Genvieve made sure she was at his studio each day with a sandwich at 11:25. Her mother had left her a huge inheritance, and she was set for life. So, she didn’t have to work. She made sandwiches for Dominic instead.
One day she showed up at the studio with his sandwich in a brown paper bag to find Dominic staring a blank canvas. In the background the Rolling Stones were singing Paint it Black on the radio. Genvieve decided not to point out the irony, although she found it hysterical.
“Dominic, what’s wrong?” She put the bag on the counter and took her coat off.
“Huh?” he asked despondently. “Painter’s block.”
“Hmmmm. Has this happened before?”
“Nope!” He stood up. “Genevieve, I’ve been thinking…”
Here it comes.
“I don’t know how to say this, but….”
Wait for it …
“I don’t think I am meant to paint.”
“Well, what do you think you are meant to do?”
“I was born to write!” he declared. “I think.”
“Okay. So, write then.”
“Genevieve, you don’t understand. I cannot just write anywhere.”
“Where can you write then?”
“I’m thinking, Sardinia, or perhaps a Greek Island …”
I see where this is going.
“How do you suppose you will get there? I understand it’s expensive to live in either of those places.”
“Yes, it is.” Dominic nodded sadly. “I was thinking you could go with me and be my muse. And you —”
Muse, my ass. She cut him off. “And I could foot the bill, right?”
“If you wouldn’t mind, my love.” Dominic looked at her with what he hoped was love in his eyes.
She took the sandwich out of the paper bag, walked over to his canvas and smeared the gooey sandwich all over it. “Write about that.” Genevieve smiled sweetly. “My love.“
She put on her coat and walked out the door.
“Next!” She yelled to no one in particular.
aka, The Abject Muse 
Tell it like it is