The Bag Lady

“The Gnomes of Netherland”

The girl was small for her age. She had dreams of greatness from constantly reading in her spare time. Every subject seemed to fascinate her as she read of fairyland adventures, animals portrayed in humanlike forms and tales of frog princes.

As she grew her imagination swelled and she started writing stories of similar creatures in her own words. Even in her busy teenaged years she kept writing. Throughout her education she attended the library’s author sessions where she would meet some of her idols.

As her profession was chosen to be an editor in a small publishing company, she continued to meet authors she admired. On this day she was the author featured at her local bookstore where she signed copies of her own storybook, “The Gnomes of Netherland”. As she met and talked with the young customers, she reflected on her journey.

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http://puttingmyfeetinthedirt.com/2018/10/01/october-writing-prompts-2/

Swiftly it goes

No time to drift

Easily on your way

Life is short

Time passes too fast

Is it time to look back

See if you can find your life’s worth

Or only forward to the ever changing void

Does it depend on your age, your health,

Wealth, or your mind’s ability to envision the future

What you wish it to be or look back to what might have been?

No, it moves too fast for introspect, reflection

Look only forward.

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https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2018/10/04/tale-weaver-191-the-race-against-time-4th-october/

“The color of the day is blue” he said, chuckling. “Everywhere, I see the most beautiful color, but it always starts in your eyes.” He picked up his cell phone and clicked a picture of her as she walked to sit at their table.

Every Friday morning they met at week’s end to relax on their coffee break and decide what their plans would be for the needed two days off.

She sipped her coffee and replied, “no more beautiful than the expression of love in yours.” The couple clasped hands over the table, hearing sighs from a lonely observer.

100 Word Wednesday: Week 91

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My choice to add two lines:

shallow river–

a dawn moon

melons cooling

Small creatures leaving the stream

Time for midnight snack of gourds

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https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2018/10/03/heeding-haiku-with-chevrefeuille-october-3rd-2018-renga-with/

“Step right up and get your sweet sample from the newest microbrewery in town!” The oldest brother of the two, Josh always was the charmer in charge of procurement. Procuring funds of course for the two other brothers so all three could enjoy their latest whims.

The brimstone brew they had concocted from their grandfather’s secret recipe had a slightly more visible tinge of red than their grandfather’s original. The secret ingredient making it prettier for its beguiling, even compelling beer, was blood. Well disguised in flavor, if not color, the crowd seemed pleased and after a small sampling at the local tasting event, were ready for more, insatiably so.

The idea was proposed to the brothers when they were running out of the inheritance their grandfather provided. Instead of finding legitimate jobs, they found a friend. A most convenient co-conspirator by the name of Mr. Black. He helped the boys form their new company.

The crowd felt almost addicted to the new tasting beverage and didn’t realize the consequences of imbibing too much. They were fascinated by the new decor of the brewery, all black and red and even grew fond of the initial macabre items of decor. The boys were sitting pretty. . .for now.

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http://puttingmyfeetinthedirt.com/2018/10/01/october-writing-prompts-2/

Did you get that Frank? She said it was Kindrick! He admitted it to her. Now we have him on tape!

Yup, the bastard’s going down now, Joe. We’ve got him on tape, too bad about the video. But this should keep him out of the political arena for sure.

Let’s walk this over to the FBI pronto! We only have a few days for them to hear it.

You think they’ll do a voice recognition test before they believe it’s him?

Are you kidding? This is the US government, Frank!

https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com/2018/10/01/fffaw-challenge-185th/

Why is it that you roam

Leave me here to cry and moan

Thinking you may not come home

Is this how you want me to atone?

All mistakes we both have made

In a black or dark grey shade

The way we sneaked around and played

Did what ever feelings bade

Now you leave and say goodbye

Leaving me to always try

To hold only memories of this

The scent of sheets, the longest kiss

I guess it’s true what they say

For every sin, you will pay.

Atone – Word of the Day Challenge

The challenge for today is to tell a story or poem about the pumpkins that get left behind on Halloween.

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🌽 Well I’m not in the least surprised you weren’t picked. You are one of the lower vegetables.

🥔I resent that! Just because we’re lower to the ground doesn’t mean we’re lower in rank!

🍉I agree with the spud. We fruits and vegetables on vines have extraordinary flavor!

🥒You are so right. And we’re versatile! Whoever heard of pickled corn?

🍆Exactly! I’m one of the most versatile of all and you can’t beat my coloring!

🥕I quite agree, Eggie, but I also display a colorful and nutritious image.

🌶I also have to chime in because I have extreme flavor. Cornball, face it, you’re. . .bland!

🍎🍏🍐🍊🍋🍌🍒🍑All right you guys, settle down. You know we all admire you for standing up for your friends. We grow above and sometimes are quite concerned for you all, down on the ground there. But the trials of October come every year and you must stick together and support your fellow pumpkins. Not being chosen because of a wrinkle or blemish is quite upsetting. Think of what it would be like to see your neighbors disappear and be left alone to rot.

🌽I guess you’re right. Maybe I was being a bit heartless, but this is a vegetable problem. Go back to your fruit salad.

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https://thehauntedwordsmith.wordpress.com/2018/10/02/daily-writing-challenge-2/

What’s this? You can’t take my blood? I’m used to donating every Monday, why not today?

It’s your blood, sir.

What’s wrong with it? You’ve never had a problem before! He looks disconcertedly at the nurse in attendance with her crisp uniform stained red.

Well you see, every other time your blood has been normal, but today it is not. I’m sorry but we cannot take your blood today.

But I thought AB negative was sorely needed, no pun intended, my dear. This is distressing indeed. I need the donation to go through, I need the fifty dollars.

Ignoring the fact he pointed out that the “donation” cost the blood bank fifty dollars every time he was generous enough to donate, she simply said, please come back again. Your blood is a rare type and we’re always happy to receive it.

The man was already suffering from a hangover headache from an unusually lively weekend, and was looking forward to his reward for donating as he did every Monday. Irate by now, he confronted the nurse at the front desk.

What exactly is wrong with my blood today?

We do not accept purple plasma. Perhaps next week you’ll not indulge in the grape quite so much.

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http://puttingmyfeetinthedirt.com/2018/10/01/october-writing-prompts-2/

“What brings you to tears” in 10 words:

Thinking of a loved one who was diagnosed with Alzheimers

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