• Doing-in the Dishes

    Doing-in the Dishes

    November 6, 2019

    It’s time for Friday Fictioneers! This week’s the prompt is the image below. I used exactly 100 words.

    ℵ

    Halfway into the kitchen, Melanie stopped short as if she’d hit a wall.

    “Good Gawd!” Overcome by the rancid stench, she covered her nose and mouth and backtracked into her bedroom. “This has gotta stop!”

    Melanie rifled through her dresser drawers until she found a surgical mask. “Gotta remember to get paper plates … getting too expensive…” she muttered.

    Melanie donned the mask and grabbed a pair of Playtex gloves from the bathroom. 

    Trying to hold her breath, she quickly tossed the molding, food encrusted dishes into a box and hauled them to the dumpster —as was her monthly practice.

     

    SusanWritesPrecise/The Abject Muse
    Ronda Del Boccio

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  • I’m Gonna

    November 2, 2019

    It is time once again for Chelsea Ann Owens’ Weekly Terrible Writing Contest. This week’s prompt is the word fifty, and the entire mess poem must be exactly 50 words.

    ~~

    Now I’m gonna

    write a poem

    in exactly 50 words.

    I cannot think of anything.

    Hey look! Outside there’s birds!

    What’s that falling from their butts?

    Could it be airborne turds?

    And there’s a squirrel eating nuts;

    he’s grateful they aren’t curds.

    Such is life in my backyard

    in fifty words.

     

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  • Melvin’s Lament

    Melvin’s Lament

    October 31, 2019

     

    Melvin is a merman fraught with angst. His parents’ irresponsible and haphazard interspecies coupling left him with a laundry list of psychological disorders to navigate:

    “Mirror, mirror on the seafloor,

    what am I really, at my core?

    Am I merman, or am I troll—

    Is this always, how I must roll?”

     

    SusanWritesPrecise/TheAbjectMuse

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  • Simplicity

    Simplicity

    October 26, 2019

    Come here, my poet, and prepare to enter the Weekly Terrible Poetry Contest #49! The topic is Hallowe’en.


    O, what shall I be

    for Hallowe’en?

    A monster, a princess

    or a Lima bean?

    With pumpkins carved

    and burning bright

    if one tips over

    the porch will ignite.

    Trick-or-treaters won’t come

    if the house is on fire

    unless they’re as stupid

    as an old flat tire.

    Fake skeletons dangle

    from the dead oak trees

    One’s leg is on backwards

    and his head’s stuck to his knee

    Sometimes directions

    are too hard to read.

    O’ what shall I be

    for Hallow’en?

    Probably something simple.

    Like me.

     

    SusanWritesPrecise
    blogspot.com
    33.416552 -86.681253

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  • Scapegoat

    October 23, 2019

    From where does the thundercloud come with its black sacks of tears?~ Neruda’s ‘The Book of Questions’ (El libro de las preguntas).


    Wild

    broken-hearted tears

    of lovers lost

    or never found

    in the first place.

    Tears of anger, disappointment

    frustration and loneliness —

    desperate

    tears offered up to Heaven

    when all else failed —

    tears that even the angels couldn’t dry,

    stuffed inside a random cloud

    and sent away

    like a scapegoat.

     

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