‘Twas the night of the spooky season, when all through the town
Midnight was stirring and monsters were around
Spiderwebs were hung on on porches to scare
Young trick or treaters who would soon be there
The children were out on this night of dead
While visions of ghouls danced in their heads
And mamma in her jacket, and I in the car
Watched the children giggle to the next house from afar
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter
I laughed pretty hard when I saw what was the matter
A spider sprang from the shadows and web
Scared my child over. He fell on his rear end.
The moon as my witness, we make sure he was alright
With a smile, he sprinted to the next house in sight
I followed, in wonder. The house breathed an eerie blue
And before my eyes the ocean’s depths came anew
With a big old pirate, with pistol out quick
I knew in a moment this house would be sick
More rapid than sharks, tentacles sprang from the yard
The pirate whistled and shouted, “Avast me! En garde!”
My child was a mixture of terror and excitement
The candy was past the pirate. His way of enticement.
To my child the pirate snickered and asked in delight.
“Do ye have what it takes on this hallowed night?”
“I see ye eyein’ me treasure, but to claim such a prize,”
“ye must endure my shipwreck with ye own eyes.”
He motioned away to the garage of the house
Where the ocean’s depths haunted about
My child looked at me, in his knight’s costume and all
I was the courage he needed. We’d both face the squall
Taking his hand, I told him “Hold your breath.”
And together we entered the deep, dark depths
He clung to me when a shark swam by
And I myself was wary and wry
The seafloor glittered with the pirate’s lost gold
And scattered upon it, the bones of a pour soul
We continued on and found the shipwreck
The jolly roger was wrung by its neck
Through a port hole, a shadow did creep
The sucking of tentacles rang through the deep
“It’s time to go,” I thought. “Get the treasure and leave.”
I picked my child up and tripped on chains at my feet.
A cackling laugh found us at the surface.
I heard my son gasp, shaking and nervous.
The pirate leaned forward, and tilted his head.
His scarred cheeks were jolly and red.
“I take it ye got scared?” He asked with a smolder
My child was burying his head in my shoulder
When my child was silent, the pirate just laughed
He stepped back and grabbed his candy-filled stash
“What a brave little pirate, ye would make.”
“Take your piece of my treasure. You’ve earned it today.”
Out of my shoulder, my child did grin.
He took a whole handful of the candy within.
When I set him down, he looked at the depths.
His feet wouldn’t let him take more steps.
To my surprise, he asked with hesitant chin.
“Would it be alright if I went through again?”
The pirate grinned with gold on his tooth
“Aye,” he said, “but no more treasure for you.”
With a brave breath and his candy bag held tight
My child went alone back through that fright
I smiled and mamma, beside me, shook her head.
“He’ll be talking about this house straight up to bed.”
I quietly agreed. I know I will be to.
This house brought the block something anew.
My child ran out of the depths with a smile.
“Is it okay if we stayed here a while?”
Momma shook her head. It was school night after all.
I thanked the pirate and he stood up tall.
We headed down the drive, my son looking back
He waved to the pirate, that crazy quack
Then I heard him exclaim, as we drove off the scene
“Good night to you all, and Happy Halloween!”
Put Off Interview
“Alright,” I sigh and toss my notebook and pen on the desk. “Let’s do this.”
“Unhand me!” A man with raven black hair wrestles himself out of Candra’s grasp. When he sees me at the desk, his venomous eyes flare. “You’re the one behind this insult, aren’t you? Don’t you know who I am? You and your snow-brain here will face the curse of the–“
“Yes. Yes.” I wave my hand in dismissal. “The curse of the ancestors for getting the better of you and all your fancy titles.” I nod to Candra. “That’ll be all. Thank you.” The look in Candra’s silver eyes wishes me luck and I’m as sure as water freezes that I’m going to need it.
Candra departs, but the raven-haired man doesn’t take notice. He lunges at the desk, leaning on it so intently I can see the hairs in his flared and narrow nose. “I’ve never seen you before in my life. I’ve never seen this place before in my life. If you are a servant of–“
I cut him off to spare myself his arrogant raving. “I’m not what you’re hoping I am. Trust me, you won’t get any glory going against me. If anything, I’m here to help. We’ve been–“
He scoffs and it irks me that he doesn’t get off the desk. He just keeps looking down his nose at me with those green, snake-eyes. “How could you possibly help me?”
The brief moment his eyes flicked downward told me he already sized me up. Compared to his garb, I probably looked like some snow slug in hibernation. My oversized t-shirt and sports shorts were rags compared to the crystals on his hide clothing. Each crystal was perfectly placed to make him look as regal and terrifying as possible. When he tapped his fingers against the desk, the crystal points like claws on his gloves caused the metal desk to ring. They were harder than plate armor, and my stomach twisted, because I know what they really are.
I must have made a face, because he stretched his thin lips to a grin. “Jealous of my trophies, are you? I’ll hath you know it took a lot of work to achieve this glorious blessing from the ancestors. You’ve no adornments, so I ask again. How can you help me?”
I tweak an eyebrow and feel the edge of my lip curl. “For starters, I kidnapped you from your Clan, didn’t I?”
The embarrassment twitched anger on his face. He finally pulled off the desk. “A chance of luck, nothing more. What do you want with me?”
I took a deep breath, thankful that he was willing to get down to business so quickly. I clicked my pen and opened my notebook. “We’ve had a lull in the sequel where you come in for a long time now. It was suggested to me to interview you and see what happens.”
I tried not to enjoy the confusion that squinted his eyes. “Interview?”
I made a note on the paper. “It means I want you to tell me about yourself–“
The way he swelled, I swore he was going to crack his crystal armor. “Say no more. I am always open to teaching my admirers everything about me. I am the image my people strive for. It’s flattering you went to such lengths, but–“
I tapped my notebook. I didn’t pull him from the Clan because I liked him. “Let’s just stick to my questions, shall we?” I didn’t bother to offer him a chair. Stories were a part of his peoples’ culture. I had no doubt he wouldn’t be able to sit still while telling me about how awesome he thought he was.
He dropped his hands to his side as his green eyes studied me. I’m glad the distrust between us was mutual. “What are your questions?”
“You’re the leader of your people?”
“I am.”
“You take enjoyment in it?”
He stuck his pointed chin in the air. “It is a great glory to lead my people like my ancestors before me. I hath proven my path is paved to be intertwined with legends time and time again.”
I raised an eyebrow. This wasn’t exactly news to me. “How would you describe yourself as a leader?”
A brief knot knitted in his dark brow as if my question was obvious. “My accomplishments describe my leadership. I hath tamed the crystal fire and vanquished the enemies of my people. I had seen ten harsh winters when I killed the first of many striped beasts that hunt the southern wood. I guide my people in the way of our ancestors and it is our ancestors that guide me to glory. It is my destiny to reconcile the wrong committed to my people in ages past.”
I fold my hands together. I know the answer to this next question, but I want to hear him say it. “How would you reconcile that wrong?”
There it was. Those venomous green eyes held a hate as frigid as the arctic. He looked me dead in the eye and the hairs on my neck stood up when he spoke.
“I will kill the devil.”
I leaned back, trying to play it cool as I knew what those words really meant. “How could you possibly kill the devil?”
He leaned on the desk again and anger burned in him as he was probably sick of hearing disbelief like the kind in my voice. “He will return to my people, and I’ll kill him. In fact, he hath been delivered to my clutches already.”
“If you have him, why didn’t you kill him?”
He pulled off the desk and paced the opposite wall, slow and methodical. “I did not expect what he brought with him. He hath fooled the ancestors, but I’ll make them see. I’ll do whatever it takes to make the snow run red with his blood.”
I hummed and glanced at my notebook. At the part I’d been stuck on for years. “So, when your initial plan doesn’t work out, what do you do?”
He smiled thinly. “I expected his diabolicalness and will heed to the howling winds until I can use them to my advantage. He’ll think he won. He’ll think me a fool and let his guard down. My people have been patient for generations for this retribution to free us from the binds our shame. I’ll show them all the truth of who he is. The ancestors will praise me for seeing through his treachery when they did not.”
He paused and I took note of the darkness that twisted his face. His venomous eyes stared at a point in the room and I knew he was recalling the stories passed down by his people. The heavy treachery he believed in that condemned them to a world of eternal winter. Yet, in a moment, his darkness swept away and an adder-like charm softened his smile. When he looked at me, there was a wit of carefreeness in his eyes. “The only trouble that burdens my shoulders,” he continued, “is how I’m going to kill him. There isn’t a way that seems just right, yet. Perhaps, that’s where you can help me?”
“No,” I said flatly. “Why don’t we move on? You weren’t very clear in how you’ll make the devil think he won. If you’re going to make him think he won, does that mean you won’t be around?”
He huffed. “Of course not. That would arouse suspicion.”
I knitted my brow. I wasn’t sure what I thought of that, but I indulged the idea. “So, you’ll allow the devil to wonder willy nilly around the home of your people.”
The look on his face gave me the sense he thought I was dumb and I tried not to grind my teeth in response. “My loyal followers will be watching him at all times.”
I flipped a section in my notebook. To all the noteworthy characters I wanted to somehow include in the story. “You mean the Raven’s Rage?”
He nodded. “There is no one more loyal to me.”
I flicked exasperated eyes up to him. “That’s because she’s in love with you.”
The cock of his grin flashed his pointed canines. “As all women should be.”
I pursed my lips as irritation boiled up in my gut. I check-marked a box in my notebook to seal his fate. “Alright, you’re obsessed with glory, you take advantage of how women feel about you, and I’m guessing you don’t return the Raven’s Rage’s affections?”
When I looked at him, he bobbed his head in some lazy-boy shrug. “She’d be useful in extending my bloodline at some point, but for now, her skills as a warrior best suit me.”
I sighed. “At least you acknowledge her talents. Is that your only redeeming quality?”
His face fell flat. “Excuse me?”
I motioned to my notebook. “Right now, I really don’t like you. You’re a selfish and arrogant son of a snow slug obsessed with killing the devil. You must have something decent about you.”
The way he stilled told me I triggered a nerve. He stepped slowly up to the desk and leaned against it. His raven hair fell in front of his face, but his eyes remained aimed at me like a spear ready to be thrown. His look wasn’t quite hate, but I must have insulted him to bring out this icy personality he often tried to bury.
“Selfish?” He repeated in a tone as low as a valley’s wind. “Hath you not been to where I live? Hath you not seen what I and my people endure? Everything I do is for them, you wretched naysayer. Everything. I uphold the law of the ancestors. I make it possible for us to survive. We must always demand strength because anything less will lead to our demise. Any weakness must be lost to the ice else we will cease to the exist. It may seem harsh, but so are the lands we live in. The curse of my people hath been brought upon us by the devil and by ending him, we will thrive beyond the path the ancestors have laid out for us. By killing the devil, my people will be free. Free of our shame and free to return to the land he bars us from.”
He stays leaned upon the desk even in my silence. I can’t help but study his face. I believed him. I believed that he wanted better for his people, but I couldn’t help but sense a falsity in his tone. He was trying to sound scared. Trying to sound like he feared he wasn’t measuring up to the immense pressure he was under. He was trying to portray that his arrogance was a front to hide a fear he seeded deep down, but I knew better. His arrogance was who he was. He saw himself as a master, after all. He saw all the world as his birthright.
I slowly offered a thin smile. “You’re very good at manipulating people, aren’t you?”
His lip twitched a snarl when he realized I saw right through him. He leaned off the desk and stood like a commander scowling at a subordinate. “You’re clearly more than what you seem. Who are you?”
“I’m still waiting for that redeeming quality.” I ignored his question and tapped my notebook. “What’s one thing about you that will make you not seem like a monster?”
His thin eyebrow peaked like the snowcapped mountains. “You make being a monster sound like a bad thing. Don’t you know? Some people choose to be monsters, because that’s the only way to survive. I’m not afraid to do what it takes for my people. There is no line I will not cross.”
Twilight
Twilight dances in vibrant colors. Orange streaks line orbs of yellow with the faintest green within their depths. The clouds of night block out patches of light and layer shadows like a heavy blanket upon the brown of the earth.
Twilight’s face is shrouded by a dusky veil. Yet, the horizon line is divided with light and dark. Sunbeams bleed through, but fading light darkens your toes. Night stretches on with flashes of color like scars on its surface. It winds and winds like the gradual blending of stripes.
The energy of life shifts in the wane of twilight. While the world of day fades to sleep, night life hums with the quiet energy of stars. Predators of shadows and silence take to the hunt while fireflies dance like fairies in the wood. All the while, day walkers turn a sleepful eye.
Day and night. All heed to the dance of Twilight.
A Day in a Cartoon
Writing Prompt: If you could spend a day living the adventures of any cartoon character, which one would you choose?
If I could spend the day as a cartoon character, I’d pick Monkey D. Luffy or Roronoa Zoro from the Japanese manga, One Piece. They’re pirates sailing the sea and living a life of adventure. They’re free to live as good people, chase their dreams without giving up and most importantly: having a loyal crew at their side.
Luffy and Zoro have friends that accept them for who they are. Their disagreements and drama are short lived because what’s most important is that they’re together. They can count on each other to have their backs and help out. They achieve the impossible and they have fun doing it.
I’d be Luffy to have fun with his rubber powers, rocketing around the ship and buildings and having troubles bounce right off you. I’d pick Zoro because of his skill, loyalty, and duty of looking after the crew. Outsiders look at Zoro and are intimidated, but his friends know who he really is.
There’s over 1,000 episodes of One Piece. It’s full of battles and adventures of exploration and saving kingdoms, but I’d probably pick a day where the whole crew is on the ship just hanging out. Fishing or training or experimenting. It’d be a day where everyone only needed to worry about being who they are. Then, at the end of the day, everyone comes together for a meal. It’s a joyful time where everyone is together and you have to be extra vigilant to keep what you have on your plate.
Those are the cartoon characters I’d be for a day if I could. What about you?
Dear Writer
I know you feel stuck right now. I know you look at your manuscript and you pound your head against the desk. You think your writing sucks. You think the scenes don’t flow and the characters aren’t being utilized in the best way. You don’t know how to show off a new culture. You know where you want to go, but you don’t know how to get there. You keep writing every week and you’re only frustrating yourself, but you don’t want to take a break because you want to be active in the waiting. You want to be ready in case the next chapter is right around the corner.
Dear writer, you’re doing okay. Write what you know. Write what you see in your head even if it’s not the next scene. Write what you want to happen and let the rest come naturally. Don’t be afraid to ask for help. Help got you this far, it won’t abandon you now.
Dear writer, your story is worth telling. Stop comparing it to others. Stop looking at the current trends and thinking your story will never fit in. Your story was meant to stand out. Put in all that it needs even when it isn’t mainstream. There’s a reason for your story. Believe it, and don’t ever give up.
Dear writer, there’s a lot going on in life right now. Most days you want to be lazy. Most days you’re trying to take care of yourself and that which your job demands. Writer, you often feel like a fraud, but you’re not. That passion is still there even when your tears are drowning you.
Dear writer, don’t give up. Someone needs your story.
Do Anything
If you could do anything right now, what would you do? Would you go home for the day? Would you sleep or go on vacation? What about something bigger than that? If you paused for a moment to look at your life, would you like what you see? Would you find that you’re happy where you are or do you avoid looking at your life because you know it’ll disappoint you?
If you could change one thing about your life, what would it be? Your job? How much money you have? Where you live? Who you spend most of your time with? Your habits or hobbies? Maybe you’d give yourself more time to do something you enjoy or maybe you’d change things in a way you know you’re making a difference in the world?
What’s stopping you?
What’s stopping you from doing the one thing you wish you could do right now? If your job isn’t working out, what’s keeping you from going somewhere else? Is it a good reason, or is it an excuse? Maybe you’d change who you hang out with? If you’re a homebody, what’s stopping you from reaching out and gaining a group of friends? If you could get fit, what’s stopping you from becoming more active? Maybe you just want to get a pet? What’s stopping you?
If you could change anything, do anything, what would it be? Is there any reason you can’t do it?
It’s Not Fine
Though this isn’t the first word that came to mind when I read this prompt, I would probably give up “fine.” You know the drill. Someone asks how you are and you say: “I’m fine.” Or something goes wrong and you say: “it’s fine.” Situations could be unfair, you could be exhausted, or even on your last leg and we continue to say “everything’s fine.”
You know, I googled the definition of that word. This is what I got:
Fine:
- Adjective, of high quality
- Adjective, (of a thread, filament, or person’s hair) thin
- Noun, very fine particles of mining or milling
- Adverb, in a satisfactory or pleasing manner. Very well.
- Verb, clarify (beer or wine) by causing precipitation of sediment during production.
- Verb, make or become thinner.
If everything is falling apart around you, it’s not of high quality or satisfactory or pleasing. You could view everything being fine as everything is thinning around you–maybe your hope is what’s thinning? But regardless, “fine” is a word I’m starting to dislike. I hate how automatically we say it these days. Someone asks how you’re doing and you give the short answer.
Maybe we need to expand our vocabulary or make it the norm to tell the truth?
I wish I had a solution to replacing the word “fine,” but even if we don’t want to automatically use that word, to say something different, we need to be able to trust the person we’re talking to.
That’s a whole ‘nother soapbox.
I’m going to try to resist the urge to use “fine” and not use it so regularly unless something is actually one of the definitions above.
23 Years Ago
23 years ago several planes were intentionally run into the World Trade Center Towers in New York, into the Pentagon in Virginia, and a Pennsylvania field. The field wasn’t intentional, but brave heroes put it down before it could crash into Washington D.C. It was a day the world stopped and millions of lives were changed.
It’s wild for me to think that it was 23 years ago. I’m sure to some people, it still feels like yesterday. I remember what I was doing that day. I was in catholic elementary school. Our classes stopped and we were all ushered to the church. They said something happened and, being so young, I didn’t quite understand it. Yet, we were all asked to pray. I remember praying, “God, I don’t know what’s going on, but You do. Please be there for the people who need you and help where Your help is needed.”
That night and days after, you see the images on the News. As a kid, you know buildings are only supposed to smoke on TV shows, not the News, and when people jump out of a building, a hero is supposed to catch them.
I can’t say I fully understand what happened that day. Why all that senseless violence happened, but I remember how it connected everyone. People were kinder after those towers fell because we were all burdened with this horrible tragedy. You bring up 9/11 and suddenly people who were enemies were unified by grief, anger, and the agreement that no one deserved the fate 9/11 wrought upon thousands of people.
Years later, my history teacher makes the comment that the students coming through his classroom are getting younger and younger that not a lot of people remember 9/11 or were even born when it happened. After 23 years, there’s plenty of young people who weren’t around yet. I may not have been impacted like a lot of people, but I remember, and I’ll continue to remember.
And, I’ll continue praying nothing like that ever happens again.
They Say
Your workplace says you’re replaceable.
Your voice doesn’t need to be heard.
Just get by. Just get stuff done.
Until your position overturns.
Your friend group says you’re forgotten.
Contact lost within the void.
You determine it isn’t worth trying,
And decide that friends are something to avoid.
Your family says get on with your life.
Get that money and make a difference.
Find yourself a husband or wife.
They don’t understand your uniqueness.
The world says no one cares.
People pass you by. Pollution fills the air.
Every where you look there’s trash on the land.
Selfishness is often what we demand.
Your mind says you’re alone.
An empty room often echoes.
You keep quiet. You don’t want to burden.
But you’re the one who’s often hurting.
One says this
Another says that
So many have something to say
But how often do we check ourselves,
And make sure what we say is okay?
We are not defined by what they say.
New Roommate
We’re learning to live together
You, my new pet, and me.
Learning what we like to do
And each others’ personalities
You like to be up at unseen hours of the morning
But I make you go back to sleep
When morning comes, you do nothing but play
With everything you see
Your favorite is to pounce and run
The wand toy is hours of fun
But dare I put it away
You complain the rest of the day
When I’ve work to be done
You entertain yourself
As the drop cloth becomes your fortress
You dive in. You dive at. You throw it this way and that
Then when I walk by, its my ankles you bat
You like to find trouble
with the power cords and the TV
But when I snap my fingers
You’ve learned to cease
When I leave the room
You run after me
You have to see where every door leads
I swear the dishwater isn’t that interesting
You have all your claws
I know you’re not mean
Even with the accidental scratch
Or twenty
When we play with hands
Your claws are put away
You only get me
When you miss the toy I dragged away
When you’re all worn out
You pass out on the couch
And let me rub your toe beans
You have a favorite spot
But it’s also mine too
So we fight over who gets it
And it’s usually you
When nighttime comes
We’ve figured out a routine
You settle down at the desk
Then lights out, you pounce at me
I jump and you jump
Then you settle at my knees
Until morning comes
It’s soft purrs and sweet dreams.