Three Different Ways

Three Different Ways:
Dreams, Madness, and Myths

  • Wit

    Where Keri tries to write of the Sunday Scribblings prompt, “Wit”, in 143 words.

  • The Lady’s Baby Blue

    Sitting by the windows, I have a clear view down the road leading up to the Lodge House. Feeling suddenly alarmed, I look away from the Brother pouring my cup of tea. Before I have turned fully, I see a glint of light from the road and hear the sound of metal rubbing against metal…

  • After

    After the party After the feasting After the wine is spilled and dried After the kissing After the loving After the tears run down to hide After the loudness After the madness After the ecstasy that lives to die After the midnight After the dawning After the crowing at the bright dawn sky It’s time…

  • Rest

    With many a pattered strum and thrum, The silent man spoke with his well worn drum. Limber fingers did tap, smooth nails did scrape. Into me the percussive language did drape. 146 words.

  • Vision: I Walked Away

    (This vision occurred in early 2002. My mindset has changed since then. However, I still remember how I was then, and will write this from that point of view. It’s dominating my thoughts again, and I write it down to contain it.) Classes were over early for the day. Don’t go to work until late…

  • Skating to Nowhere

    I don’t have ice skates on. The physics of this world would make them a moot detail. It feels like I’m sliding in socks on a freshly mopped floor. But with a frozen floor. And with leather boots. I extend a leg, and with a sudden movement launch myself into a lazy single salchow jump.…

  • Pagan? Me?

    By denotation, I’m pagan. By (popular) connotation, I’m not. By hell, I’ve stopped giving a shit. 211 words about one of Keri’s pet peeves.

  • The Last Sip

    Having my Friday sip of alcohol (rum, today), I had forgotten this was the dregs of the bottle. I found myself at the last sip sooner than I planned. As I held it in my mouth, contemplating the sudden emptiness of the glass, I am reminded of a friend that passed on earlier this week.…

  • Completing The Gift

    Silly me. To think “completing the gift” would be a simple process of taking ownership. By simple, I mean like taking the car keys from the dealer. “Sign here, and here, and drop of blood here. Congratulations! Here’s your new trinket, fully equipped and ready to go!” Bitch, please. Horatio (as I call it publicly)…

  • Dream Journal: 2012-02-20.01

    Weaver holds the toy of an adult. Is she mature enough to keep it?322 words.