“I believe in everything until it’s disproved. So I believe in fairies, the myths, dragons. It all exists, even if it’s in your mind. Who’s to say that dreams and nightmares aren’t as real as the here and now?”
― John Lennon
myth
Quote For The Day 5-17-2021
“‘Too busy’ is a myth.
People make time for the things that are really important to them.”
-Mandy Hale
Friday Fictioneers 3/19/2021
PHOTO PROMPT © Liz Young
“It’s a tree!” His friends stood back, looking at lines and angles, but seeing only a huge tree.
He said nothing, captured by the spirit before him, breathing age.
“Hey, you want to go get some snacks?” Jason asked.
Always hungry, that one, but for the wrong things.
He stepped forward, drawn by the inexplicable radiance before him.
“Let’s go. I’m starved.”
“It’s a tree. Big whoop.”
He stepped inside the doorway into darkness. Dizziness. A rush of lightening across his spine.
A rustle of people starting up the path. A pause.
“Hey, where’s Dave?”
“Dave?”
It’s Never Too Early For Halloween.
Linus: [writing] Dear Great Pumpkin, I am looking forward to your arrival on Halloween night. I hope you will bring me lots of presents.
Linus: Each year, the Great Pumpkin rises out of the pumpkin patch that he thinks is the most sincere. He’s gotta pick this one. He’s got to. I don’t see how a pumpkin patch can be more sincere than this one. You can look around and there’s not a sign of hypocrisy. Nothing but sincerity as far as the eye can see.
It’s The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown is my favorite Halloween book of all times. Having kids meant we got all sorts of Halloween books – Pumpkin books, ghost books, witches book, monster books. All cute and funny, but not the Great Pumpkin. If you have never read the book or seen the TV show, you needs to attend to that loss right now.
You wouldn’t want to miss the Great Pumpkin now, would you?
Linus is my favorite Charlie Brown character. Most times, he is a wise man in a child’s body. Other times, as with the Great Pumpkin, he is a little boy clinging to his belief even in the face of his friends laughter and teasing. That, after all, is what faith is, right? The inner knowledge which allows one to believe in something magical or religious even in the face of laughter and/or guns. Or both.
I know the Great Pumpkin isn’t real. We all know that. I think even Linus knows that truth but he still keeps the faith each year, sitting in the Pumpkin Patch waiting – believing – this time the Great Pumpkin will come.
I like the thought that somewhere a little boy is waiting in a dark pumpkin patch every Halloween, waiting for this miracle to rise up before him and reward his faith. How many of us could do that year after year when the miracle never arrives?
If, by chance, in your holiday travels, you come across a small boy with a blanket sitting in a pumpkin patch on Halloween, say hello for me. Tell him, if he keeps the faith, – if we all keep the faith – something magical just might happen.
And who’s to say there isn’t a Great Pumpkin after all?
JSW Writing Response 6-5-2017
“Really? Way back?”
He smirked.
“Like… you were born on the same day, time, space, and such brings such a deep connection…. Or, what? Maybe you met in Kindergarten and became fast friends for life?”
“No need to be snide.”
“I’d say there is definitely a need to be snide.”
He shrugged. “Suit yourself. Stay behind or come with, your choice.”
“But wait! It’s a demon!”
“So? He’s a normal guy like all the others. Wants a house, family, two and a half children. Decent meal on the table.”
“Yeah, it’s the meal I’m worried about.”
Laughing, he headed down the hall. “You’re far too stringy and tough to have any worries. Trust me.”
At the door at the end of the hall, he knocked. “Got to be polite.”
“Humph.”
The door cracked open. An eye peeked out. The door opened to show a small, wrinkled demon, barely four feet tall.
“Come in, come in.” He warbled and wheezed, motioning with one claw. “I’ve just built a gingerbread house. Would you like a nibble?”
Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers 5-21-2017
Guide for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers
1. A prompt photo will be provided each Tuesday to be used as a base to your story. Please include photo prompt with your story.
2. Linking for this challenge begins on Tuesday and runs to the following Monday evening.
3. Please credit photo to photographer.
4. The story word limit is 100 – 150 words (+ – 25 words). Please try to stay within this limit.
This week’s photo prompt is provided by loniangraphics.
Snow. Ice. Wind. The night couldn’t get any colder.
“Have you seen the witch?” a rough voice asked, but not to him.
Their horses stamped impatiently, wanting back in their warm barn. As the posse moved forward, he drifted behind, eyes searching the darkness. Stamping down panic.
It was then his eyes met those of the frightened girl, hidden in a jumble of brush across the clearing.
Something crashed in the brush ahead. The men broke into a run.
“Shoot the witch.”
“Don’t let her escape.”
He stared. Demon eyes. No, child eyes. Innocent eyes. Terrified eyes.
Thou shall not suffer a witch to live. What man held the right as judge?
Nothing would be the same.
He would never be trusted again.
Rushing over to the brush, he grabbed the girl out, scooping her up and starting to run.
JSW Prompt 5-15-2017
Feel free to join in and respond to the prompt. Try to keep it under 300 words. If you link back to this post, I will re-blog your response on my site. Have fun!
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Word For The Day 5-15-2017
orphic
or·phic \ˈȯr-fik\
Popularity: Bottom 40% of word
Definition
-
of or relating to Orpheus or the rites or doctrines ascribed to him
- having an import not apparent to the senses nor obvious to the intelligence; beyond ordinary understanding
Examples
Starving will kill as dead as hanging, was Lieders’s Orphic response to this. –Stories of a Western Town Octave Thanet
He was represented in the Orphic Theology under the mixed symbol of a lionand serpent: and sometimes of a serpent only. –A New System; or, an Analysis of Antient Mythology. Volume II. (of VI.) Jacob Bryant
Did You Know?
Orpheus was a hero of Greek mythology who was supposed to possess superhuman musical skills. With his legendary lyre, he was said to be able to make even the rocks and trees dance around. In fact, when his wife Eurydice died, he was nearly able to use his lyre to secure her return from the underworld. Later on, according to legend, he was killed at the bidding of Dionysus, and an oracle of Orpheus was established that came to rival the oracle of Apollo at Delphi. Because of the oracle of Orpheus, orphic can mean “oracular.” Because of Orpheus’ musical powers, orphic can mean “entrancing.”
Origin
JSW Prompt Response 5-14-2017
He’d never been up the stairs, though he’d often thought, nay dreamed, about it. There was a mystery beyond that bend of which, he feared, he would never know.
He’d come here every day for the last year, wanting, hoping, wishing, but no. He was afraid. Wasn’t sure of what, but afraid none-the less. And now, this was the last day, the last chance, for him to buckle up his courage and set foot on the moss-covered stones.
Tomorrow, he was going home. University was over. Time to return to his normal life in America. Job. Guy friends. Girl friends. The Girl Friend. Engagement. Marriage. House. Car. Picket fence. 2.5 children.
2.5? What?
Growing older. Grand-kids. Retirement – too poor to do anything but sit at home and watch TV. Death of his wife. His own death. Or at least assumed she would go first. Maybe not; maybe it would be him.
Well, life in a nutshell, but was that the life he wanted? A normal, ordinary life?
A boring life?
Now or never.
Putting his foot on the bottom step, he felt a thrill rush his body like an ocean wave. A tingling starting in his foot, running up him and over.
A second step.
Stomach threatening. Breath quick.
Easier as he went up.
At the bend, he paused before looking around. Behind him a normal life. Before him…. what? Probably just the top of the stairs.
Still……. maybe not……
FLASH FICTION FOR THE PURPOSEFUL PRACTITIONER 5-10-2017
The challenge for Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner opens Wednesday morning, May 3rd. Allow the prompt to take you anywhere you want to go! (Limit your stories to 200 words.)
This challenge is open until 11:00 pm Friday night, May 12th, 2017.
Flash Fiction for the Practical Practitioner
Fog swallowed the night, glowing tail-lights of the car and the wound-slash of the sputtering bulb above the abandoned way-station the only light.
“You ‘re late.”
Voice cutting my spine like the knife which killed me.
His fingers wove webs of pain. My pain. His pain. Pain conscious in the night and fog.
Bone-bread. Bone-bread.
His hand grabbed mine, placing it on the string and stone between us.
“Bone-bread. Bone-bread, let me walk with the spirits of the dead.”
Bone-bread. Bone-bread. Words echoing in my head. Bone-bread. Bone-bread. Clear thy sight for the spirits of the dead.
“Bone-bread. Bone-bread. Clear my sight on the spirits of the dead.”
The pain was sharp and sudden. There shouldn’t be pain. Not in the land of the dead.
The night filled with shifting shadows.
Bone-bread. Bone-bread. God help the summoned dead.
A Writer's Life 
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