Friday, August 30, 2013

A Calico Tail

Hello, it's the start of Friday here in Florida, and it's time for another story.  I enjoy hearing from people about my writing, thank you to those who have commented or sent me messages over my Facebook account.

I spent four hours staring at a blank piece of paper waiting for the Friday story, and I was coming up with nothing at all.  This new story came about because of a friend's post on Facebook of the cutest cat that I've ever seen (I'm a dog person, so it takes a lot for me to say I like a cat).

Had an interesting day yesterday, my writing mentor and screenwriting group had a discussion over Miley Cyrus (no need to explain right?) and how American Entertainment and American Culture have changed gradually since the 90's.  We talked about how risque the movie The Fifth Element was for some people back when it came out to theaters in 1997, and how it compares to Miley Cyrus' performance during the MTV VMA.  I made no comment, being an immigrant and the only minority in the room... well... I did make one comment:

"MTV has been dead for a while."

Enjoy this new 100 story, and two older 100 stories as well.  Good night/morning!


Another old post getting a much needed update and reshare to the google+ communities.  +Adrianna Joleigh+Linda Maree Malcolm, and +Janine Donoho, Author & Fledgling Artist, were one of the first few people to find me and tell me about google+ communities.


*pictures are originally from:


08/30/2013 (Friday)- A Cat Confession

There’s a calico cat that passes by my window every Friday night.  He stops by to say hello, asks how I’ve been, how’s the family, such and such— normal neighbor chit chat.  The other night over a cup of coffee and a bowl of milk, he told me a secret. 

“I’m terrible at keeping secrets,” I said taking a sip of coffee.

“No worries,” he purred, “I know a trick that’ll help with that.”

He then told me his secret, a cat secret borne by wind and moon— bathed in sin and blood.

Then he left and took my tongue.

12/03/2012-  The Old Man and the Sulfur Sea 

The old man spent the morning fixing the bait on his hook: his arthritic, liver spotted hands shaking with each attempt.  Smiling he drops the line into the hole he made, and waits for a bite. 

He enjoys the waiting, they always come in time, temptation drawing them to his line. 

He smiles as he sees the line go taut, reeling it in to size up his catch. 

Human.  Male.  Thirty-Five.  Sinner.

Removing the hook he quickly guts and skins and debones the soul, tossing it into a bucket with the others. 

Smiling, he fixes another bait to his hook.

12/10/2012- Wyntyr Sacrifice

“Are you serious… I have to wear this?

‘You want your hammer back, right?’

“I do!  But this…?!”

‘Look.  You came to me asking for a favor, and because you know I’m the best at what I do.’

“…  That you are.”

‘Now remember what I’ve told you, alright?  You have to BE the part in order to trick them.’

“I’m not shaving my beard.”

‘Have you ever seen a woman with a beard?!’

“Well, this one time in Midgard…”

‘I reeaaally don’t want to hear this.’

“…you asked.”

‘I know.  Now put these two rocks into your blouse.’