Author: Ergo, the Ogre
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Day 41
This week’s prompt at the Grammar Ghoul Press Shapeshifting 13 writing challenge is the word recipe.
Exactly 52 words.
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The holidays are upon us. If you’re like me, you’re thinking homunculi.
Don’t have one? No sweat. Be your own Homunculus Hero!
Here’s how:
4 chicken bones
1 dollop spermatozoa
7oz skin fragments
4oz donkey hair
Mix well and allow to rest. Bury beneath a dead willow tree.
Unearth after forty days.
Goo!
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Artillery of the Heart
The topic I am about to discuss is not the norm.
I am venturing out of my comfort zone and into the
lightun-dark.Brace yourselves.
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Love.
In my opinion, it does not come under the heading of ‘a many splendored thing;’ that would be infatuation. You’ve got to admit, infatuation is a beautiful thing. The urgency, the not eating or sleeping, the goofy grin and all-consuming need to see, feel, touch, and smell the object of your desire. Fun stuff!
But love..
Love is what happens if both parties stick around after the infatuation wears off—aged infatuation. The love I want to talk about is the kind two people can shoot full of holes, douse in gasoline and toss a match to, and still hangs on.
It perpetually looms.
Love, if it’s the real deal, takes on a life of its own. Suddenly, it calls the shots. The relationship isn’t over until love says it’s over. The people involved are mere extras in the movie.
That’s the kind of love I’m talking about. It’s tough. It endures. It’s unstoppable and indestructible.
The Kevlar-Army-Tank kind of love, if there were such tanks.
But how? Why? What holds it together? The love, I mean.
That’s what I can’t figure out.
It’s the kind of love that’s always there when you need it.
That’s all I wanted to say.
Image courtesy of wallpaperup.com M1A1 Abrams Tank Share this:
Ergo, the Ogre 