Tuesday, November 26, 2013


They skittered away from me. They always do, the little devils. They are fast. I sometimes catch one, but it's not easy.

Laughing at my attempts, they form little armies, taunting me. I curse them. I get angry, stomp my feet, find another weapon in my arsenal, hoping to find one that will annihilate them for good.

I've learned that they are tricksters. They have many hiding places and love to skitter out at me...a suprise attack...only to disappear again.

To look at them, you'd think they are innocent of any evil intent towards me. I know better now. I've come to believe they have some kind of rudimentary intelligence, enhancing their mission.

The ones I've captured are disposed of immediately, but it hardly matters. Multiplication of their species is rapid, and they don't mourn the loss of their comrades.

Where do they come from? How do they get in here? I don't invite them in. I'd never do that.  They are sneaky. If ever you look into any dark recess of this place, you may catch sight of a few, catch them congregating...formulating their plans. I shake my head, knowing they will be gone if I run to get my chosen weapon.

They've been around for centuries, their kind. I'm sure of it. They are a primitive sort, yet hardy...impossible to completely wipe off the face of the Earth.

I've dissected a few that I was lucky enough to catch. They made no sound as I pulled and prodded them apart, even as they crumbled into nothingness. I was surprised. Their bodies disintegrated into a bit of hair, a bit of fluff, back to the dirty little Hell they came from. I shudder at the remembrance of it. I don't pull them apart for curiosity's sake any more.

I chased one the other day, though. A tiny one skittered across the floor right in front of me. I'd caught a glimpse of movement from the corner of my eye. As luck would have it, I had my weapon in hand already. I smashed the bloodless bugger flat. The only witnesses were the others of it's kind, already trapped, on the way to their doom.

I sensed a rustling, a whisper of movement behind me. Whirling around, I dangled my latest victim in front of the others.

"Hah! Look at your future, you devils," I sneered.

Flinging the deceased into their midst, I scooped up the whole lot of them. Their execution was at hand. As today's invaders were being disposed of, I heard their final, collective thought.

"We'll be back."

I sighed, "Waging war on dust bunnies is a never ending job."

Peace, Love, & War

Tuesday, November 19, 2013


The blond boy shuffled his feet in the gravel next to the building. He was waiting. He struck a match, holding the orange flame up to the joint held between his lips. Inhaling deeply, he began to relax. This could be the night.

He watched as a couple of girls ran past him, paying no attention to the boy in the shadows. There was a muffled sound of music seeping out into the chilly night air. Pulling his jacket closer around him, he walked toward the back door of the venue, following in the girls footsteps.

Scrunching through the rocks, he rounded the corner. There was the bus, belching diesel fumes into the cold air. The driver had just let the two girls inside. He sighed, knowing he would never be invited in, yet still hoping...always hoping.

He glanced at his watch. It was almost time. He moved closer to the double doors, his heart pounding a rhythm to match the beat of the music from within. Then a thunderous roar was followed by a silence that made his ears ring. A sudden surge of adreneline coursed through his veins.

A thousand footsteps behind him were coming closer. The doors flew open as two burly men lead the way to the bus. In the few seconds before the crowd caught up to him, he made eye contact with a tall musician coming through the doorway.

He hears the words, "Not tonight," spoken, as the musician signals to him with a hand over his heart. Then he is gone...swept along with his entourage onto the bus

The blond boy is just another face in the crowd of fans now gathered there, hoping to get a glimpse of the musician. It is bittersweet, having been seen, yet not invited along. He turns away, preparing for the next stop on the road ahead.

Inside the bus, the musician watches through the window and sighs.

"Who were you talking to?" a bandmate asks.

"My brother," he replies.

"I didn't see anyone there." the bandmate says.

"I know...he died two years ago. He was my biggest fan...and he still is."

Peace, Love, & Love


What is Flash Fiction? That's what I asked when I first heard the term. By doing a little research online and reading other people's flash fiction stories, here is what I found out.

It is a form of writing fiction that is very short. Some stories can be as short as 75 words or as long as 1,500 words long. They can also be called micro-fiction, short-short stories, and sudden fiction among others.

The stories should follow a criteria of having a beginning, middle, and end. In other words, a complete story told in a way that it stands alone, and is easy to read in a short amount of time.

I have never done this before, but am going to try it. This first one I hope will be the beginning of many more, as I plan to keep working on this type of writing.

Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I had fun writing it!

Peace, Love, & Learning

Monday, November 18, 2013


I'm just trying this out to see what it looks like...now I'm trying out a different font....and now another one.....and now this one...ok this one looks good and it is called Georgia...hmmm...it seems pretty easy to read, so I'll go with this.

I was using the yellow highlighing of the words I write, but it was bugging me. I'd thought it would be just a solid color background, but instead it was just behind the words. The ends of the margin looked so uneven and messy. Go ahead....you can agree with me....it was pretty sloppy.  Maybe my eyesight is bad, but even now I can see a bit of highlighting behind these words. I don't think I'm doing it right, even now. Let me try something else here. Hang on, you'll see what I mean. ...Ok, now I changed it to just plain white background. Much better?  I think so, even if it was a very light color before.

Another reason I wanted to change the look is because I have some new plans to add to this blog. I will be sharing my "Fan Fiction" story with you. I wanted it to be easier to read. I will give the details in the first post on that catagory.

I am also going to try and write some "Flash Fiction" stories. I've only got one so far, but am working on more. I'd never heard of this catagory of fiction until recently. These are very short stories, quick to read.

Also, I have some Haiku poems, and other poetry I've written that I will put on here in it's own section.

You may think I'm being overly ambitious, and you'd be right. It will be a challenge for me to do all this, but it is writing, and that's what I like to do, in whatever form it may be.

Feel free to browse around, pick what interests you to read, (maybe all of it?).
Don't hesitate to leave a comment, because I do like to know if any of this is being read at all. I will let you know when I've added something new by way of Facebook and Twitter.

Until next time....happy reading!

Peace, Love, & Plans

Tuesday, November 12, 2013


This happened not too long ago.   I have been listening to the radio show "Coast2Coast" for many years. It comes on at midnight here and I have my transistor radio pinned to my pillow so I can hear it.   Well, one night they were going to talk to a person who claimed to be the Devil.

I did not want to hear that interview, so I waited till just before it started to, turn the station.   For some reason, as I turned to a different station, that interview was on the other station, so I kept turning the tuning dial and it was on every single station!

I tried turning the radio completely off, but it would not go off! Meanwhile, I was having to hear the Devil person talking!   Finally, I took out the batteries and that worked.....no more Devil radio!

That was weird and I have no idea why it would have done that.   Maybe the ghosts around here wanted to hear it and were trying to control the radio that night!

Peace, Love, & Radios!


You've probably heard of the 5 Ws of good reporting......that being to ask and answer these questions:    What, Why, Where, When, Who, and also How could be asked.     

Here are my answers to those questions about my writing.


What is it?   My writing.
What do you write about?    Everything I think about.   I like to write things down in all different types of formats.    I've tried all kinds of styles over the years and found them all to be fun to do.   I have written fan fiction , diarys, journals, memoirs, plays, poetry, dream journals, fiction, observations, lists, children's stories, adult stories, letters, and now even Tweets, and FB messages, and now this blog. 

Some of the earliest writing I ever did was in the form of diarys and fan fiction.   I kept diaries almost from the time I could put pencil to paper.   Fan fiction was probably next. I would make up stories using characters from tv shows I liked, sometimes mixing up the people from one show into another show.   Yes, there were some strange combinations.....think Perry Mason meets Bonanza!    And many more of this type.   Then there were the plays, as I called them, written exactly as you'd see them on a page with stage direction and scenery and acts.    Lots of these were about the popular bands and singing groups of the day.   The memoirs would be a longer form of the diary entries, with much detail included and my thoughts on them, from everyday happenings as I remembered them.    Yes, there were some that I later destroyed, because......ahem.....just because I'd not want anyone to come across them (but now wish I'd kept).     

This is just some of the things I write about.    I love to write and I will continue this writing blog next time, adding more to the What of my writing, then continuing on  to the other Ws.     

(here is an example of one of my observations......the W in the title and in this text...should it have an apostrophe between the W and the small letter s?    I wouldn't think the W is something that could be posessive, as in owning something, but I'm not sure. I will have to look it up and will report what I find to you.    That is something else I love to do......research! =  or what I formally call 'looking stuff up'!)

Until next time, hope I've entertained you with this little bit of writing!

Peace, Love, & Writing!

Tuesday, November 5, 2013


Definition of forebode is to have an inward conviction of a coming ill or misfortune......to portend or foretell......a prediction, an omen or presentiment especially of coming evil.

Have you ever had a foreboding experience?   I know I have on several occasions.   It is a really odd feeling, a heavy feeling that something bad was going to happen.   It will not leave you alone until the incident has happened.

You may not even know what it is about until later.   It's just a creepy, apprehensive feeling in your mind that you want resolved so you can stop thinking about it.   It's like a stalker, you can't see it, but it's there.   It disrupts everything you try to do, and even intrudes on your thinking.   You know it's not good.

Then, some event will happen and the strangeness you've been feeling will be gone.   You look back and say, that was why I was feeling so weird!

Three times I remember this has happened to me.   Once, I had the dreaded feeling all day.   Couldn't shake it.    That evening we got a telegram (we didn't have a phone at the time) delivered to our door.   It just said, 'call home'.   We found a pay phone to call from.    We were informed that a person close to the family had been killed in a tragic accident.  

Another time I'd had that feeling all day, we got a phone call that my Dad was in the hospital.   He'd been injured on the job (a broken arm).

The most recent incident was concerning some medicine I'd been perscribed.   I dreaded taking it......had that foreboding feeling about it.   I just could not make myself take any of it.    I did call the doctor, though, and told him there was no way I would take it, because it would kill me......I would certainly die if I did.   He prescribed another medicine, and I was fine with it.   The feeling that I would die from the other one was so strong!   There was no way I was going to ignore my intuition about it.

So, I really hate getting that foreboding feeling, but in a way I guess it is helpful in some situations!    I would sugggest that if you ever have that sixth sense, that foreboding feeling yourself.....pay attention to it!   

Peace, Love, & Intuition