The Bag Lady

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crinkly fare

crunch under my foot

careless act

—

piles of brown

used nature’s paintbrush

artist’s love

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https://jilywily.wordpress.com/category/haiku/

Ben may have made a point

But he’d be surprised at the new joint

At 1600 Pennsylvania

Probably couldn’t contain it

Words of truth, freedom, historical

Seeing it now as just comical

A figure of leisurely fun and games

No, it will never be the same

Representing the American way

It’s lost its past and future days

Leisurely is a congressional word

Their non actions are absurd

Get rid of them all, especially Mike

Rules with a fist I dislike

If I disappear from this blog

You’ll know they got me, for my song.

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Weekly Prompts Weekend Challenge — Leisurely

wet relief is felt

the droplets were a notice

a fresh perspective

my delicious walk in the

rain was redemption for me

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W3 Prompt #215: Wea’ve Written Weekly

Solitude
Not being rude
Actually
I don’t think it’s
What its cracked up to be…
Being alone, trying to read
Stopping the page
Taking a bead
Of time to reflect
Ok, that’s enough.

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Weekend Writing Prompt #472 – Solitude

I don’t remember inviting you, she spoke with a chilly attitude. The little bothersome guest flew by, stinging a child, making her cry. Summer parties are really fun, as long as you don’t invite this one.

The Friday Reminder and Prompt for #SoCS June 13, 2026

“I didn’t realize how dark it was out here. I can’t make out where the boat is. I don’t have time to wait, I need to find it!” 
He fell over something hard, but picked himself up and limped on. He would be at the boathouse soon. “I can see the boathouse, it must be inside.” Joe started running along even though his knee pained him. He had to get to the boat.

A car slid to a stop behind him, throwing up gravel on the roadside. They were in pursuit of Joe, and determined to find him before he got to the boat. They knew his getaway plan. It was confessed by his friend after they tortured him. They had to get him before he escaped.  

Joe ran faster, he knew they were close behind. It all fell through at the end, all of it. He hoped Shaun was okay but he couldn’t think of him now. It was imperative he get away. The bag he carried seemed to weigh heavy on his shoulder, but there was no leaving it behind. He and Shaun risked their lives for this. The money was worth the risk. Poor thinking, poor planning, all came to a nasty conclusion when their scheme was revealed. This bag was his insurance. It wouldn’t save Shaun, but he hoped it would save him.

It was just a small con, but before they knew it, the game grew into a much bigger money maker than they dreamed. The only problem was the two young grifters chose the wrong mark. A “connected” mark. Their inexperience would be their demise.
That night their plans were discovered. Joe had hidden the bag of money outside the apartment. Shaun didn’t even know he’d done this, but Joe was the kind of friend known to take advantage, always hedging his bets, conning even his co-conspirator. Tonight Shaun phoned to say he thought something suspicious was going on and they should drop the scheme and take off before they saw real trouble.  

Joe laughed it off, knowing he had backup hidden by the apartment. He had packed the money, a gun, and the boat keys there. He approached the bar where he was to meet Shaun. Before going inside he sneaked in the back to check what was going on. He saw Shaun restrained by the mark’s bodyguards. He knew Shaun’s suspicions were right, and he took off running.

The men in the car were close behind. Joe wasn’t going to make it. He ran down the steps and into the boathouse. There was nothing there. He didn’t have time to retrieve the gun. Joe didn’t have a thought for Shaun as the bullet entered his spine. Falling into the water, he barely felt the second bullet hit his heart. The bag was dragged from his shoulder. The men waited to see if Joe would resurface. When he didn’t, they left to finish off Shaun.

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Fandango’s Flashback Friday — June 12th

“The hills so dry, so dense the underbrush, that where I pushed my way the giant hush was changed to soft explosion.”

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Prosery: A View from the Hills

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Inside the cottage with a rose bower

Stood a handsome man in the shower

He spent the day working the garden

Wanted to clean up and heard, “beg your pardon”

The man who had soap in his eyes

Couldn’t see so was unwise

And said “who?”

Without a clue

As the cottage maiden

Stepped in to sway him

Making his day when

They had a lay in.

***

Writing Prompts

Strolling into the castle with his usual swagger, a young man dressed in dungarees and shirt with an obscene photo of the old prophet, emblazoned in bright 3D print, led his fellow objectors in a loud protest.

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Can You Tell A Story In…