Prompt response

Write a story about your favorite candy. Be sure to create a basic plot and simple conflict!

 

m&m

“I don’t want to be M&M anymore, everyone has the same initials in my family. I want to be my own candy, you know unique like snickers or musketeers or even that brat peppermint patty. She’s always bragging about special she is.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re always whining about something. Last year, you weren’t picked for the holiday bag and now this year it’s your name. I’m not going to listen to this for months again. M&M is short sweet, kind of like rap with its own beat.”

“Everyone recognizes Kanye West. He’s not just one of many in the same bag.”

“Well, then do something about it.”

I hopped off the counter and rolled myself out the door looking to find myself. There has got to be a name that suits me and isn’t like every other candy in the store. Watch out, I’m on a personal mission.

Insanity

 

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Yup, I’ve lost my mind.

October I’m doing the NaNo Prep challenge to get ready for November and NaNoWriMo and a minimum of 50,000 words. You’re probably thinking, writer’s write, so what’s the big deal. I’m a poet. I generally don’t write lengthy pieces. Brevity is my norm. Not anymore, I’m spreading my wings and then some. Wish me luck or join me in the insanity.

https://nanowrimo.org/dashboard

 

NaNo-2017-Participant-Facebook-Cover

Work in progress

Sleep alluded me again, so I wandered aimlessly around the streets of my hometown until I heard the wrought iron gate creak. The scraping groan startled me but like so many other times I entered the graveyard. That’s when I noticed the weeping willow swaying, but oddly, there was no wind. I studied random names as I strolled along the dew covered path. Why was a pair of brocade slippers lying beside a tipped wine glass and a briar pipe on a crumbled gravestone? I glanced up at the harvest moon gleaming boldly against the twinkling night sky.  If only the moon could talk. He might know why this one stone is broken when all of the surrounding ones aren’t.  I’m sure I would have noticed it before. I’ve been here many times because so many of my friends are buried in this cemetery. The closing years of our lives are like the end of a masquerade party when everyone tosses their masks aside and then gets laid here. A lone cricket chirped breaking the eerie silence. I knelt closer examining the lovely pattern on the slippers before uprighting the fragile wine glass. A fruity aroma wafted into the air. I spun around, but there was no one there.

 

   

Weave a tale about a September sunset

 

 

Sunset_in_CoquitlamI have a possible explanation
for this magical occurrence.
The romantic in me says
that sneaky Sun God
bestowed Mother Nature
with a fiery kiss
on this quiet September eve.
Her ruddy glow caressed
the majestic treetops
surrounding the lake.
before slipping away into
Autumn’s tempting darkness.
The corn moon sighed in despair
another stolen moment missed
with Mother Nature because
he was helping the natives
prepare for the winter ahead.©

 

This file is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic license.

Chad Teer from Coquitlam, Canada

The Skeletal Corpse

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The Skeletal Corpse

 

Eyes flare bold red inside the extended dark head
with a huge glistening white-toothed smile.
Wispy smoke swirls hide the body in front of the
pentagram etched in a brazen satanic style.
My neck hair stands up straight in protest to
the sound of nails raked across the granite.
Ew, a smell of rotted meat and cheap perfume
I can’t imagine what created this nasty cesspit.
The earth shudders as the moon briefly appears
from behind the dark sky. The brittle and decayed bones,
what’s left of a  body is so close
clearly in my view.
I try to back up, but my feet are frozen.
His bony fingers clench my left ankle painfully
I scream frantically, I hope someone hears me before my
throat gives out. I tug, twist and kick to no avail,
My ankle is firmly in his grasp, I sense my end is near.
A deep, gravelly growl suddenly breaks the eerie silence, I whisper
Help me. His painful grasp loosens as he contemplates his new prize.
 I tug myself free. I’m so exhausted I can’t move.
The low growls are so close, I step back, it’s hard to stand.
Gravelly voice whispers to me, run when I command thee.
Blood-curdling screams, a moan filled with annoyance, and loud thuds
made it so hard to hear the raspy voice as the battle ensued.
Run, Run, run fast and don’t look back
I stumble several times before I make it to the house
I lock the doors and wonder when it will end.
Tick, tick, tock, tick, tick, tock damn, I hate that clock
Knife in my hand, hidden in the darkness I wait
Tears trickle down my face, I am relieved to be free
but a sense of dread lingers as I await my fate.

Quote

“When you make friends with fear, it cannot rule you.” ~ Anne Lamott

Poetry is something I feel very confident writing, it’s when I try to write something more … fear consumes me.

My muse and I know that terror all too well, unfortunately.

I’ve been working on my book now for ten weeks and I have a reasonably solid outline, awesome universal character trait lists for each of my characters. I have pictures of the settings, I even sketched some of them. I did my homework so why wasn’t I writing the story.

FEAR

That nasty four letter word held me hostage for the last couple weeks until yesterday. I stared at my computer and decided today was the day that demon wasn’t going to win anymore. I wrote for 4 hours straight and threw 1302 words onto 6 pages. I did it.

I turned it into Raz, the man teaching the writing class I’ve been taking. I waited for another email, one of quite a few that over the past ten weeks I’ve dreaded opening. Instead, I got a text message that simply said: “You nailed it.”  Three words I hadn’t expected because of that nemesis fear.

Life is too short to let fear make big decisions for you.

What I learned was fear can also be my friend and motivator if I simply change my perspective so I took Eleanor’s advice.

“Do one thing every day that scares you.” Eleanor Roosevelt

So instead of sitting on my laurels and embracing the confidence boost, I tossed my story out to my writing group for critique.

I loved hearing the voice of my character come alive with Pam reading. It’s one thing to read your own work but it’s another to hear it. It still needs a bit of tweaking, there were places where she stumbled reading but the overall consensus was they were invested and wanted more. My character was likable and sounded real. The pacing was good and when it stopped they wanted more.

I embraced my fear this evening and shared my story. I’m ready to do the edits and write more. Fear and I are going to become best buds because like Lamott said, it can’t rule me unless I let it.

 “ Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts.” – Winston Churchill.

 

 

Prompt inspired poem

Take a quote (funny, inspirational, insightful… it’s up to you) and turn it into a poem. Please include the quote and who it’s by at the bottom of your item. ~ Poetry

Telegraph, Telephone or Circulate

A Lie Gets Halfway Around the World, Mate

Don’t be humble, you’re not that great.
I swear, I know the time I won’t be late
Did you say we’re going on a dinner date?
I can’t believe she puts up with so much hate.
Who let the dogs out? Shut the gate?
Did you hear, Winston said, I’m great?
The decorations are so dang ornate.
Let me write it down while you dictate.
I thought I’d lie on the floor straight
writhe in pain for a bit while I wait
Are there cookies on the plate?
She said something about her heart rate
Is she always so sedate?
Do we have time to ice skate?
It doesn’t really matter, it’s fate!

Before the truth has a chance to get its pants on, Mate.
Are you sure you heard it straight? ©

free style 140 w/c  18 lines

“A lie gets halfway around the world before the truth has a chance to get its pants on.”
― Winston S. Churchill

Short Story with Writing. Com Prompt

The door stood ajar and you couldn’t help but take a peek.

The door stood ajar and I couldn’t help but take a peek. The frigid silence slaps my face like a blinding January blizzard. Usually, I can feel him, feel everything he thinks and does. We’re one in this universe at least I thought we were on this August day.
Her arms are wrapped snuggly around his neck in a lover’s embrace. Their bodies sway with every note. Our song plays in the background with every beat I want my feet to move but the floor clenches them in place tighter than any leather restraint he used on me when we played his fetish games. I shut my eyes but the image is still there. I try to clear my throat, anything to free myself from seeing him with my best friend. My knees tremble, the knocking loudly echoing in my ears, the sound more deafening than Niagara Falls.  Why can’t they hear or see me?
I tried to shake my head but I can’t. I try to raise my arms but I can’t. I’ve frozen like Frosty the snowman except I don’t have a scarf around my neck. The brisk air feels like shards of glass hitting my neck. The air swirls around my bare calves and lifts the dress chilling me to my core.
What is happening to me? To us? What us? Leonard and Sharon are together. They are lovers. How did I not see this?
I used to cherish every moment with him, every thought of him made my skin flush with anticipation. The mere idea, my longing for him filled me every waking thought. I never imagined a time without him until now.
A gust of wind shudders past my ear. I watch in horror as my lover and my best friend’s bodies explode apart blood spraying the lush blue floral rug. The same rug we made love upon so many times. Another ripple of air passes my head and his body rise and falls with the strike. I try to move again but can’t. His blood sprays all over my silky shins dripping into my sandals coating my feet. My screams freeze in mid-air.  I can see my words floating but there is no sound.
I watch him gurgle and gag. The blood oozes from his mouth, and then his chest collapses with one final heave. I hear a whimper and then another burst of air and her body jumps spraying blood across his body peppered with holes. I can’t see the lavender flower pattern on the rug anymore, only red spreading out. The sweet stench makes my nostrils flare and my stomach recoil but my feet remain locked in place. I twist and try to get my legs free but to no avail. I wrench with revulsion as my toes wiggle in the sticky wetness.
Oddly, An Eclipse of the Heart begins playing and I realize how dark it is outside. The sunlight has vanished completely. I had wanted to share the eclipse with him. It was to be a surprise because I ordered the glasses months ago just for this moment. Leonard and I on the balcony with glasses of wine talking. All my friends, co-workers were getting together with their families to watch this monumental moment in time. I think the next one is 2024, maybe, I dream we’d have our own family then. We’ve never talked about children before but I had hoped today we might
I never saw any indication that he was seeing my best friend. I feel like a fool, guess I was eclipsed in more ways than I expected. Sharon and I did everything together or so I thought we did.  How could I have been so blind?
I shiver feeling the stickiness clinging to my cold skin. I try to move my arms to adjust my dress. Why did I pick today to wear nothing under my silk dress? I screamed but the letters of every one of my frantic words float over the bodies dropping one at a time upon the blood saturated rug. The blood seeps into each letter as they lay upon the carpet.
I heard the elevator door buzzer chime and then I listened to the doors open but I can’t’ move to see if anyone was there. My eyes are the only thing I could move.  I see the sky lighten through the picture window. It was a gorgeous August day and the sun shone brightly in the room as if nothing had happened.  I struggle again trying to break free my invisible restraints. The clock strikes sharply four times.
“Hi honey, how was your day?”
Leonard reaches for my hand, he draws me in for an embrace. “Honey, your skin is like an icicle. Let me turn up the air conditioner and you slip into something warmer. I’ll put the water on for some tea. You’re going to catch a death of a cold.”
I didn’t move or say a thing. Leonard pulls me inside and closes the door. I glanced at the rug and the lovely powder blue with lavender flowers. It was spotless. There are no bodies, no blood, nothing. I raise my eyes and look Leonard over. I shiver, shake my head and leap for the bathroom.
He was wearing my favorite black dress pants and gray pinstripe shirt with his cuffs rolled back. Before today, when I saw him like this he looked so sexy to me with his bare toes peeking out from the cuffs of his pants.  Now, I just shake.
I look at myself in the mirror, I’m pale as a ghost and my teeth are chattering. What the hell? What the fuck just happened? Am I going crazy? I tell myself to catch my breath and get myself under control. I Inhale deeply trying to relax when I spot s familiar makeup bag lying on the counter. I notice the red marks all over my arms as I reach for the bag.
“Leonard Where’s Sharon?”

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