Writing 101 Day 5:  Write a response to the following tweet.

(Buckle your seat belts for this is going to be a horror ride!)


Ghost ChildI was quite the unusual child.  No one dared speak it out loud, but none-the-less, I knew it ate upon their brains like a canker sore.

“Different…,” they’d say.  “Just a wee-bit queer…for my like’n.”  Then they’d catch me looking at them and the old timer’s faces would blanch white as the cotton they were picking.

I enjoy making them uncomfortable.  I enjoy hearing the rhythm of their heartbeat quicken.  It makes me alive within this skin.

It’s a funny thing to feel so alive when scaring others to death.  I almost get giddy with the pleasure.  Once I almost smiled but  I never let them see me smile.

One day I’ll leave this backwater country, but not until I’m finished with them.  I never leave a job undone.  I stay until the end…and sometimes it takes oh so long for the end.

The end makes me sad.  After the end there is no fear and that’s what I miss most…the fear.  And so I stretch the means to defer the end.

I linger long, but alas the end is always inevitable.  So when the job is done I lay them to hell and spill dirt to cover the faces…and then I smile.

I wonder the woods, for beyond yonder hill, my new family awaits.  The cabin is bright and I knock at the door.  When it opens they invite me in and then my job begins again.

Over the centuries families come and families go and yet I’m here…still the same girl of seven.  This one thing remains I’m never alone for this body I possess is always my home.

A Day In The Life of Bagsby Jones: The Ambush


Bagsby Jones, bull dog P.I., was on the case.

He wrinkled his brow, sniffed the air and vigorously kicked his hind legs.  He rarely took the time to relieve himself while on the job, but this one had been necessary.  Call it an emergency that couldn’t wait.  Feeling his tummy rumble he grimaced and vowed to pass on the next road kill.  It must have lain in the sun too long he surmised.  The next time he’d take it home to the cat.

Bagsby looked up and down the busy street, and was relieved to see his target had yet to round the corner of Big Bills Butcher Shop.  Bagsby, thankful his poop stop had not thwarted the mission, sent  up a silent “thank you” to Pooch Heaven.

All four of Bagsby’s, short but muscular legs, carried his stocky little body towards the perfect hideout.  He had spent weeks watching and calculating the moves of the big guy,  and Bagsby was confident this was the perfect place for the ambush.

Stifling a bark of laughter, Bagsby began back into a small space between two large trash cans.  This maneuver proved difficult as the space was quite small.  He grunted a cuss word or two and wiggled his booty back and forth until he finally squeezed within the tiny opening.  It had only been yesterday, he had backed himself in with ease.  Bagsby was baffled until he remembered the road kill and realized the tainted stuff must have given him gas. A repetitious rumble squeaked out his back door giving credence to this assumption.  The confined space captured the ripe fragrance and wafted it to his nose.  Bagsby curled his upper lip, scowled and cursed the road kill.  Then he thought about the cat and smiled.

His mischievous reverie, interrupted by the sound of a whisle, dissipated at once bringing his thoughts  to the task at hand.  Harmonious whistling had always heralded the big guy’s approach so Bagsby knew he was close.  He tensed and readied his body for the ambush.  The whistling grew louder as the target rounded the corner of Big Bills.  After a moment he could hear the big guy’s footsteps above the whistling, and so Bagsby hunkered his tiny (but muscular) legs closer to the ground, preparing himself for the attack.  Bagsby could barely contain his excitement.

Wait for it…

wait for it…

not yet…wait for…

…and then it happened…  Shoe-leather and a blue pants leg crossed Bagsby’s field of vision.  Without hesitation Bagsby flung his bull-dog frame forward but his gas-riddled body wedged once again between the two trash cans.  The noise startled the big guy dressed in blue and once he caught sight of Bagsby ricocheting between the two cans, he screamed and ran down the busy sidewalk dodging the passerby’s.

Fearing the big guys escape Bagsby lunged again.   Adrenalin and another slippage of gas propelled him forward and away from the toppling trash cans.  Bagsby hit the ground running, booking it in the direction of the fleeing target.  When he was within striking distance he jumped with teeth bared and jowls flapping in the wind.

Bagsby came down on all fours with a mouth full of leather.   Proud of his conquest, he vigorously shook the leather satchel which created a snow drift of stamped envelopes.  The satchel’s engraved name of Newman was completely slathered with drool.   Bagsby smiled, holding the satchel between his teeth.  He enjoyed watching the colorful pieces of paper scatter in the wind.

Dropping the satchel he thought, “Now for the finishing touch.”   Bagsby lifted his hind leg and christened the bag with yellow dew.   With that done he turned, kicked his hind legs and walked towards home.  He and Newman would meet again tomorrow.

However, now he had to go home and feed the cat.

Bagsby Jones snickered with the thought.


Treasure Chest

Writing 101 Day 3:  Treasure Chest

“Hope should be treasured, loved and kissed.”  ____  Lisa Hardy


Treasure Chest

I opened the chest to look inside,

And there she lay.  Had she died?

 Dirty, cold and all alone…

There in the chest she called home.

Hope, beaten by guilt and shame,

Lay there dying, crippled and lame.

Wiping at tears I squinted to see…

If she would look and recognize me.

Too weak to raise her weary head,

Hope whispered faintly to me and said;

“I’m still here…don’t let me die…”

And with that my Hope began to cry.

I lifted her up… cradled her close

Wiped the tears from the tip of her nose.

Kissed her lips and laid her to rest

Within my heart, her treasure chest.


10 Lessons I learned From Bugs Bunny

Writing 101 Day 2:  Today, let’s write a list.

Today, write your own list on one of these topics:

  • Things I Like
  • Things I’ve Learned
  • Things I Wish

10 lessons I learned from Bugs Bunny:


  •  “I knew I should have taken that left turn at Albuquerque.”  —–Wrong turns are like shit:  It happens!  Recognize it, change it and stop feeling guilty about it.
  • “Gee, ain’t I a stinker!” ——Nobody’s perfect…that’s okay…just be yourself.  
  • “Eh…What’s up Doc?”-——Ask lots of questions…even if they don’t want you to.  Refuse to stop learning.
  • “Carrots are divine…you get a dozen for a dime.  It’s magical!” —Enjoy the little things for in them you find peace and happiness.
  • “My, I bet, you monsters, lead innnnnnnnteresting lives.”—Diversity Rocks!  Embrace it.
  • “Stop steamin’up my tail! What are ya tryn’ to do….wrinkle it!”—  Don’t tread on the rights anyone….everyone should be treated equally. 
  • “Just a minute partna’you can’t talk to me like that, them’s fightin’ words”   Freedom is worth the fight.
  • “Well, what do you expect in an opera?  A happy ending?”  —There are no guarantees and sometimes you don’t get the happy ending.
  • “Jumpin’without a parachute?  Kind of dangerous, ain’t it?” —-Prepare and have a plan.
  • “Don’t take life too seriously.  You’ll never get out alive” Lighten up and have fun!

Don’t underestimate the value of cartoons.  Do yourself a favor…watch a cartoon!  You’ll be surprised what lessons you learn.


I Write Because…

 Writing 101:  Day 1 Assignment:  

Why do you write? This is a question you can answer again and again, as your response might evolve over time.


“I write only because
There is a voice within me
That will not be still”
— Sylvia Plath

“That is why I write — to try to turn sadness into longing, solitude into remembrance.”
— Paulo Coelho

1463729_10202770787815776_1695430257_nToday, tell us: why do you write?

I write because I am quiet, and all introverts need a way to release the noise within their head.   _____ Lisa Hardy