Skip to content

Skinny Dance


Head to the studio

Release your inhibitions

Begin loosing weight

Dance yourself skinny

It never fails!


In response to 20140930: day 273
Today’s words: release, skinny, fail, begin, studio


The day it all began, the sky was gray and rainy. Orakyla found it fitting that the doom of her people should be heralded by Lightning and Thunder, who were Sky Gods and the most powerful of the deities the People worshiped. The Lore spoke of Demons that rose up out of the Depths, but no mention had been made of Them striking from Above.

She glared at the bright harbinger of Death and shuddered. The Vristmouss shook her head in disbelief. She had been so excited at first when the Map Of The Heavens had displayed the strange new light streaking across it. That excitement had turned to terror months ago when she realized that the light was on a direct course for Gwaedia. What had the Kristlahlia done to earn this fate, that a population of 16,456,208 (as of the last census) should perish by fire, the People had carefully followed every ritual given to them by the Gods to the letter, why had they been forsaken?

She stood tall in her full regalia on the balcony of the Temple of Forgiveness overlooking the Plaza of Atonement. “My people, the Day of Cartonement is at hand!” Her sonorous voice carried across the assemblage. “Repent of your sins, for you go to stand in the Hall of Eternity before the very Gods!”

A huge moan of loss and despair sounded from the crowd her words.

“Within moments our world shall meet its End! Face it with Pride and Courage! Let us Pray. Oh Gods of Light…” She raised her face and arms to the ominous overcast sky embracing it, and the Kristlahlia followed her example.

Two hours later she was shivering in her rain-soaked clothing. Why hasn’t it happened yet? She wondered. Could my calculations possibly be wrong?

An exceptionally loud Crack! of thunder split the air. The clouds above the Temple began to glow with light. Suddenly the rain sputtered to a stop. A huge, howling wind engulfed her, buffeting her body from every direction. Closing her eyes she braced herself for the impact and the flames, but nothing happened.

Bewildered, her eyes popped open. A huge shape was taking form amongst the clouds. A gigantic, gleaming hot disc materialized in the air. It shimmered metallicly and was studded with odd protrusions. It hovered majestically over the Temple. Then slowly lowered to the ground. It landed in the empty fields on the City of Brighthaven’s outskirts.

Orakyla gaped, as stunned as the rest of the People. Her eyes widened as she studied it. Obviously It was no natural object, it had been made by Someone or she quaked at the thought, Something! The huge vessel smoked and steamed for long minutes.

Screech!” An opening appeared in the object. A door slid aside and a ramp extended out. Eerie figures walked strangely down the ramp and the alien beings set foot on the soil of Gwaedia. The Vristmouss was frozen with shock and disbelief. Nothing in the Teachings had covered this!


In response to Finish That Thought #2-13, 500 word limit, mandatory first sentence, Special Challenge: Include 2 or more of the following:

    1. A map
    2. A number
    3. An alien (or aliens)
    4. A made-up word
    5. A question

I used all of them.
Made-up words: Brighthaven, Cartonement, Gwaedia, Kristlahlia, Orakyla, Vristmouss

The Bastard Part 2: The Pickled Pig

Three hours later Charlz sat at a table in the Pickled Pig, Flugelstone’s best local pub, nursing a pint of beer. The Pig’s fame had spread over a distance of seventy-five miles. It was a large, rambling structure of rough-hewn granite, with a slate roof, randomly placed windows, and many intriguing nooks and crannies. The Pig possessed a welcoming atmosphere, a friendly staff that provided swift , accurate service, fine music played by an ever-changing roster of local and traveling groups of all kinds, comfortable furnishings, and most importantly, excellent food and drink that was reasonably priced. The sign hanging over the entryway was distinctive. It was painted bright red, with a large black pig drinking from a foaming silver stein of beer, the letters of the name were picked out in gleaming gold. The Pig was always packed and turned a pretty daily profit.

“Why did you really do it Charlz? I know that it wasn’t for the money or the property!” His companion Bendyx asked shrewdly.

“For the sake of the children, they are the only true innocents in the entire Family, they merely copy the words and deeds of their elders.”

“You do realize that Patriarch Wilksyn is going to betray you eventually?”

Charlz held up his hand, thumb and forefinger almost, but not quite touching. “It trust him that far and no farther.” He declared.

“Just checking old man, it’s your hide he’s after.”

“I’m counting on it!” Charlz laughed harshly. “Wilksyn will have to pay a heavy price before he can nail me to his trophy wall”

“I’ll help as much as a washed-up cripple can.” Bendyx said bitterly jerking his thumb at the pinned up sleeve of his missing left arm.

“You’re neither washed-up nor a cripple!” Charlz growled. “For The Gods sakes, you can earn your own income instead of living off of charity.”

“Not everyone agrees with that assessment.” Bendyx replied.

“Then they are prejudiced fools!” Charlz flared. “Particularly that worm, Norsdeel, who begrudges the fact that he isn’t in a position to lord himself over you.”

“Thank you for that Charlz.”

“No, I thank you. You’re a true friend Bendyx.”

They sat in silence for several moments sipping their brews. “You know don’t you, that it’s all the Patriarch’s own fault? If he weren’t such a greedy, grasping bully the Family wouldn’t be in the position it is.” Bendyx said.

“Agreed, he did rather underestimate the LaMaar Family, didn’t he?”

“Arson, bribery, intimidation, murder, and treason have always worked for him in the past.”

“True. Well they sure showed him, didn’t they?!”

“That they did, that they truly did. Too bad that it cost the Family so much blood and so many bodies. To lost comrades!” He raised his shot glass of whiskey.

Charlz clinked his own glass against it. “To lost comrades!” He returned the toast. They gulped down their shots and sat in glum silence.

Ten minutes passed before a serving girl bustled over to them carrying a tray laden with their dinners. Her eyes and long, curly hair were gleaming brown. Her cheeks and lips were rosy against her milk-white complexion. She wore an outfit consisting of a knee-length red tartan skirt and a low-cut, ruffled, white cotton blouse trimmed with lace that was designed to display every bit of her lush figure. She flashed a beaming smile at the two men. “Here you are gents, two of the day’s specials. Enjoy!” She said cheerily, laying the steaming plates in front of them. Charlz handed her a pair of coppers. “Thank you very much sir!” She dropped the coins down the front of her blouse and sashayed away.

The two men watched her until she was swallowed by the crowd. “Friendly girl.” Bendyx noted.

“Very friendly.” Charlz replied. The scent of the hot food was enticing. Appetites aroused they dug into the hearty stewed pork, braised spring vegetables, and fresh bread, all chased by tall mugs of ice-cold cider. “How does Plisten get his pork so succulent?” Bendyx asked after swallowing a savory mouthful.

“He slops his pigs with the beer that doesn’t make his grade.”

Bendyx considered the information for several moments before speaking. “Well, it sure works!” He said.

“That it does!” Charlz eagerly endorsed.


Fiction Rules

When reading for fun, do you usually choose fiction or non-fiction? Do you have an idea why you prefer one over the other?

The overwhelming majority of the time I choose fiction, I enjoy the sheer escapism from my mundane, ordinary life. I can visit places, people, and things I could never see in real life, journey to fantastic realms, and experience wonderous visions all without leaving the comfort of my own house, paying expensive fees, or suffering the inconveniences of traveling.


In response to Daily Prompt: The Great Divide

Life’s Meaning

The ticket to fame and fortune:

The influence of a good woman

Learning the meaning of life

And avoiding getting struck by lightning.


In response to 20140929: day 272
Today’s words: meaning, influence, ticket, women, lightning

The Ayes Have It!

Mr. Chairman, I motion

That next campaign season

Our party rents a hotel suite

So that we don’t have to

Clean up the mess

When the election is over

All those in favor?


In response to 20140928: day 271
Today’s words: rent, campaign, mess, over, motion

$1,000,000 No!


A few descriptive words concerning my least favorite food.

There is one food item that I refuse to touch or eat, not even for a million dollars. Limburger cheese! I think it is the very worst food on the face of the planet. Just its sheer odor (stinky gym socks anyone?) is enough to turn my stomach. I might consider it for say, a cool $5,000,000, but not a penny less! Any offers?


In response to Daily Prompt: Mouths Wide Shut
Are you a picky eater? Share some of your favorite food quirks with us (the more exotic, the better!). Omnivores: what’s the one thing you won’t eat?

Protest Police Procedures

Raise your hand

In protest of

The birth of

New police procedures

In the war on drugs

That are ineffective.


In response to 20140927: day 270
Today’s words: protest, birth, hand, police, are

Pot Roast Dinner


My mom is an okay cook, she can’t make anything fancy, but handles the basics fairly well. Her comfort meals vary with the seasons, this is my fall favorite.

  • A huge slab of fragrant roast beef with onions, nicely browned, well cooked, dripping with juices, so tender that it can be cut with a fork.
  • A big bowl of fluffy, steaming-hot mashed potatoes, lightly salted and peppered, dotted with pats of melting butter.
  • A tureen of brown gravy made from the meat drippings.
  • A bowl of carrots.
  • A bowl of peas.
  • A trayful of fresh-from-the-oven cinnamon rolls.
  • Chocolate cake with chocolate frosting.

We always ate family style, the large rectangular  table loaded down with food. Dad would get out the electric knife and carve the roast at the counter, then carry it to the table, carefully dodging the eager cats and dogs, who were hoping for table scraps. Dad sat at the head of the table. Mom sat to his left, my sister Rachel sat next to her. I sat at the end of the table. My brother Emmett sat to my left and then my sister Bess. There would be margarine, ketchup, mustard, salt, pepper, and a relish tray on the table. For beverages you could have your choice of farm-fresh milk, iced tea, or Koolaid. Sometimes Mom made a spread for the beef by mixing horseradish, Miracle Whip, and Cool Whip together.

We would spend the meal talking, laughing, and eating. Sometimes when my younger siblings were teenagers they would disturb the occasion by engaging in a food fight. My brother still has a scar on his hand from where one of my sisters stabbed him with a fork! Dad was not amused, she was grounded for two weeks.

My mouth is watering, I can almost smell the meal. I think I’m going to buy the ingredients and make it next month.

In response to Writing 101: Happy (Insert Special Occasion Here)!
Today, be inspired by a favorite childhood meal. For the twist, focus on infusing the post with your unique voice — even if that makes you a little nervous.

Spy’s Happy Hour

Did you ever dream of

Slipping into the pleasure

Of a vodka martini as

Originated by

The famous spy James Bond

Shaken but not stirred?


In response to 20140926: day 269
Today’s words: slip, pleasure, origin, did, famous


Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 556 other followers