Day 258; 334 days of photos
Be careful what you wish for
A cautionary tale with a modern twist?
Written by:
Jolene Rice
Michael Raven
Judy was weary of being invisible. She was so tired of being invisible that she was willing to give up her Diet Coke funds to see this through. Until payday, anyway. Thank goodness that was only a few days away. More than that and she might cry. Her copious Diet Coke consumption was one of the few luxuries she allowed herself on her limited budget.
Judy made her way down the primrose-lined path of pea gravel from the place she had parked her Honda Civic, fussing a bit on the way over her shoes, the rain and the inevitable additional wear caused by the lack of pavement would do to them.
“Why can’t this lady have a sidewalk like normal people?” Judy muttered to herself, starting to second-guess her decision to have come here in the first place. The online appointment had said nothing about these additional environmental hazards and Judy really felt that she should have been warned to wear appropriate footwear if she had been expected to hike the length of a primitive path. It was not as if she had more appropriate footwear, but Judy would have preferred to have known so she could have rescheduled when she saw rain had been forecast at the time of her appointment.
Now her shoes (with sensible heels) were muddy and wet. And quite possibly scuffed as well. Judy hoped this appointment was going to yield some kind of result.
Judy could not identify the smell as she drew closer to the very modern-looking tiny home at the end of the path.
Wait, what? She stopped, turning to look behind her. Where did that run down shack go?
Part 3
Be Careful What You Wish For
Day 257; 334 days of photos
Down into the black
https://dandelionscribes.com/publication/honest-words
First published in Dandelion Scribes; 10-13-3026.
Down into the black
Are my eyes open?
Everything is dark.
I move my eyes from side to side.
Close their lids;
up, down.
Nothing but black.
It’s calm this nothingness.
No fear
or anxiety.
Just darkness. All black.
The surface under my feet feels hard.
Brick, wood, concrete?
No textures
or sound.
Void of light.
Nothing.
Not even the ringing in my ears.
Just
the black.
There is sensation at my feet.
Tingling.
Not fingers.
Not ants.
Smooth rolling.
Climbing?
Pulling?
Deeper into the black.
Can’t move.
Can’t struggle.
Can’t fight.
Being pulled?
Sinking?
Being consumed,
deeper into the black.
I can hear sound now.
It’s the beating of my heart,
inside my ears.
Fear has taken hold.
Where is this void taking me?
Why am I sinking?
Being pulled,
deeper into the black.
Lungs burning.
Can’t breathe.
Need to breathe.
Can’t move.
Need to run.
Need to hide.
Need to scream.
Sound gets lost
in the black.
Heart pounding!
Open mouth.
Blood coursing.
Flushed skin.
Is this fear?
Desperation of the unknown?
Terror of the past?
Darkness still consuming,
deeper into the black.
Run!
Hide!
Flee!
Move! Something! Anything!
Just move!
Anywhere but down,
deeper into the black.
Need light.
Need air.
Need space.
Need to move.
Body burns from lack of motion.
Need!
Need free from all the darkness,
inside the black.
Still pulling?
Still falling?
Feel the weight of nothingness,
deeper still
inside the black.
*First published on Dandelion Scribes 10 – 15 – 26. Honest Words Digital Collection
Day 256; 334 days of photos
It’s story time!
Your story or poem can be as long or as short as you want it to be. All four pieces below have to be used. Go wild.
The only thing is, you can’t kill your main character.
Post your work in the comments below. Feel free to tag and share.
Here are your story lines:
1 magic gloves
2 restaurant
3 person who needs a job
4 explorer
Day 255; 334 days of photos
Guest poet: Mr. Billy Joe Woods
The Legend of Goblin’s Creek
Written on Halloween Night, 1990
John was walking home late one Halloween night,
When a sound from behind he did hear.
He turned too much in fright,
But there was nothing that was near.
He turned around slowly to go on his way,
Increasing his pace all the while.
He began to wish for the light of day,
And to wonder how he might fly.
He began to think about goblins and ghouls,
And gruesome bloody things,
And he wondered what kind of thing might over him drool,
And from what dark shadow it might spring.
He had scarcely gone a hundred feet,
When a sound from behind made him quiver.
Then he recalled the legend of Goblin’s Creek,
And what he remembered made him shiver.
John recalled the story of a Halloween day,
Many many years before,
When another young man had lost his way,
And had never heard of any more.
It seems this young man had been to a party,
At the head of Goblin’s Creek.
He had left feeling hale and hardy,
But never knowing what he would meet.
He had scarcely gotten out of sight,
When his friends heard a blood-curdling yell.
They ran after him with all their might,
But found only footprints on the trail.
Ever since then you just don’t travel down Goblin’s Creek,
Especially on Halloween’s eve.
But if you do you better be ready for a fight,
Or at least be fast on your feet.
John wished he had never set out this night,
And he wondered what he should do.
He began to wish for the day and light,
As something toward him did move.
The thrashing crashing grunts and groans,
Came closer with John’s every breath.
He turned to run but could only moan,
As the thing’s hot breath touched his neck.
John screamed and fought with all his might,
As he was being taken away.
Then all was quiet as the rest of the night,
Turned slowly into the next day.
John’s disappearance became the talk of the town,
With everyone telling their own tale.
But the only evidence that was ever found,
Was his footprints left on the trail.
So this Halloween be sure and go straight home,
Please don’t wait for the night to begin.
And don’t travel down Goblin’s Creek alone,
If you do you’ll never be seen again.
Only one knows the secrets of the darkness and nights,
But it won’t be telling anyone.
Because its the thing that waits in the dark,
For all those travelling alone.
© Bill • All Rights Reserved
Mr. Billy Joe Woos is a retired teacher. He has given his permission for me to share his work.
Day 254; 334 days of photos
Be careful what you wish for
A cautionary tale with a modern twist?
Written by:
Jolene Rice
Michael Raven
Judy rummaged around the floor of the passenger side of her car for the compact umbrella that she kept around for days like this. At first, she could not find it and thought she had forgotten to bring it back out to the car after that dreary grey day of persistent spring showers a few weeks back. But then she found the umbrella had just rolled under the seat and she held the rainbow-colored wand up with the air of triumph, as if it were the Excalibur of umbrellas — only not so triumphant as to bang it against the roof of her car. She was not sure she would have any money left to replace it if she broke it after today.
Rain had been forecasted and the woman she was meeting had been circumspect about how much it would cost Judy for her services; Judy only knew that everyone agreed on Yelp that Margaret Butterfield, an accredited alchemist and certified cunning woman and sole proprietor of Margaret Butterfield’s Apothecary and Folk Medicine Atelier, charged less than the other hedge-witch across town. Until a few days ago, Judy had not even known that one could get such validations from authorizing bodies. Gertrude’s webpage, the other local option, did not mention any certification or accreditation, although she did sport 4.8 out of 5 stars with over five hundred reviewers. Margaret had fewer reviews, only thirteen, but Judy assumed that was because she was new in town.
Judy had scraped up as much cash as she could, hoping it would be enough. Living paycheck to paycheck, she did not have much of a nestegg tucked away for such things.
Part two
