A fun way for me to exercise my kreativitee by sharing short stories and narratives, pictures, and possibly some sketches...
Saturday, January 11, 2014
It is on her that I rest my perverse attention.
Ok, I'm guilty, I've been slacking... Here's a small piece to get me started again. I'm sure some of you will have opinions on this... but in some ways I'm very amused. I'm sure we all know someone like this...
Writing Prompt #7 'It is on her that I rest my perverse attention.'
Writing Prompt #7 'It is on her that I rest my perverse attention.'
I started coming to
this coffee shop after I was told this hot barista worked here.
Look at those cheek bones and that long thick brown hair. Dressed in black from head to toe, her clothes cling to her like they were made just for her, outlining her shapely figure.
Sometimes we’d come together. I would watch with jealousy as he’d smoothly flirt with her and eventually found out her name. I never spoke to her except to give her my order.
As soon as I knew her identity, I began to stalk her though Facebook, instagram, and twitterto find out as much as I could.
Who was this bitch who’s trying to steal MY man?
It is on her that I rest my perverse attention.
Sunday, December 8, 2013
You meet someone in dreams repeatedly, but each time they're a little different.
I've been slacking, I know! I've been doing a lot of reading. In fact, just today, I finished Game of Thrones... after about 8 months. (Gimme a break... it's 800+ pages! Plus I've read about 4 books in between.)
Oh and I got a keyboard, so I've been fiddling with that. :)
I'm a bit rusty. I like the idea better than the execution...
Writing Prompt #6 You meet someone in dreams repeatedly, but each time they're a little different.
I was 4 when I first dreamt of him. He was an old man with white hair and looked around my grandfather's age. I remember wondering who he was because he looked familiar, but like no one in the family I had ever seen.
He was playing with several kids my age and I wanted to play too. But for some reason, they were always just out of reach. Whenever I went to where I thought they were, they were somewhere else. I was always able to see what they were doing, but I couldn't find a way to participate.
I was too young to make sense of it, and didn't think anything of it.
When I was 12, he reappeared. He was younger now, maybe late 40s. The children around him were a older, again about my age. There were only 2 this time and they more closely resembled him. He was with a woman that looked to be his wife and they were very happy. They looked to be on a family vacation on a tropical island.
When I woke up, I asked my mom about the family and if there were any uncles or second cousins that I hadn't met yet. We were a very close family and as far as I knew, we all migrated to the States during the war and no one was left behind.
I scoured through the few old pictures she was able to bring with her when she fled, but I never saw him in any of them.
Nine years later, he reemerged. He was my age this time. I recognized him right away. He was about to graduate college, as was I. The people around him were definitely family. I saw my mom there this time, much older as well as some cousins who also aged. He must be family, but who was he?
I looked through pictures again, and scoured family Facebook accounts to see if I could determine who he was. No success.
Five years later, I saw him again. He was a teenager now. Young, awkward, but still well adjusted. I stopped trying to put meaning behind it. After all, they were just dreams weren't they?
At 36, he came to me again. This time he was about 4 years old. I couldn't believe it when I dreamt of him again. All this time I had been dreaming of my future son! This time, I was dreaming about him at the age he actually was. His beautiful face, his resemblance to the family!
I recalled the dreams I had when I was younger, and hoped the future I had dreamed for him would come true.
Oh and I got a keyboard, so I've been fiddling with that. :)
I'm a bit rusty. I like the idea better than the execution...
Writing Prompt #6 You meet someone in dreams repeatedly, but each time they're a little different.
I was 4 when I first dreamt of him. He was an old man with white hair and looked around my grandfather's age. I remember wondering who he was because he looked familiar, but like no one in the family I had ever seen.
He was playing with several kids my age and I wanted to play too. But for some reason, they were always just out of reach. Whenever I went to where I thought they were, they were somewhere else. I was always able to see what they were doing, but I couldn't find a way to participate.
I was too young to make sense of it, and didn't think anything of it.
When I was 12, he reappeared. He was younger now, maybe late 40s. The children around him were a older, again about my age. There were only 2 this time and they more closely resembled him. He was with a woman that looked to be his wife and they were very happy. They looked to be on a family vacation on a tropical island.
When I woke up, I asked my mom about the family and if there were any uncles or second cousins that I hadn't met yet. We were a very close family and as far as I knew, we all migrated to the States during the war and no one was left behind.
I scoured through the few old pictures she was able to bring with her when she fled, but I never saw him in any of them.
Nine years later, he reemerged. He was my age this time. I recognized him right away. He was about to graduate college, as was I. The people around him were definitely family. I saw my mom there this time, much older as well as some cousins who also aged. He must be family, but who was he?
I looked through pictures again, and scoured family Facebook accounts to see if I could determine who he was. No success.
Five years later, I saw him again. He was a teenager now. Young, awkward, but still well adjusted. I stopped trying to put meaning behind it. After all, they were just dreams weren't they?
At 36, he came to me again. This time he was about 4 years old. I couldn't believe it when I dreamt of him again. All this time I had been dreaming of my future son! This time, I was dreaming about him at the age he actually was. His beautiful face, his resemblance to the family!
I recalled the dreams I had when I was younger, and hoped the future I had dreamed for him would come true.
Tuesday, November 19, 2013
As soon as I saw you, I knew an adventure was going to happen - Winnie the Pooh
This quote inspired my summer writing project. I wrote this shortly after the "BBF" (Best Buds Forever) story. I had thought about making it a "pick your own adventure" but decided to work on other things. I like the idea but I know it needs more editing. That still may happen at another time, but not right now.
My best friend always liked to tease me with a Winnie the Pooh
quote: "As soon as I saw you, I knew an adventure was going to
happen."
I’ve always been a wall flower, and aside from him, I don’t like
people too much.
It became our inside joke and all he started calling me “Pooh”
as a nickname. It always made me blush with embarrassment and want to beat him
up. Especially since you can’t really distinguish that from #2! I tried to get
him to call me “Winnie” but he refused.
He was smart and always ran away, and I always chased him; until
one day my mom said, “Gwen! Ladies don’t chase boys!” I was about 9 when the
chasing ended. Since then, I just give him a smirk and shake my fist, even
though he still ran.
When he came back, he was always ready to share his plan.

He mixed it up; sometimes we’d collect stuff for his “legen-wait-for-it-dary”
tree house. Plans were in place, but he didn’t have a tree picked
out just yet. Other times, we would go bum at the beach and
bury each other in the sand. Usually, when he buried me, he’d give me huge
boobs and long legs. Considering I was as flat as a board and the shortest
person he knew, I think he was just trying to be nice. Or a jerk, couldn’t
quite tell.
I’d usually give him huge muscles and create a superhero suit,
complete with carved abs and a cool logo. I was the artist, he was my muse.
Today, we were going on a search for hidden treasure. Or at
least I was. He would create scavenger hunts for me all the time. He was so
thoughtful and observant and made these journeys just for me. Clues that he
created were based off our inside jokes, so that if anyone were to find the map
he made, it wouldn’t make any sense to them. Clever that one…
These adventures were meant for me to do on my own. He had so
many ideas that once he completed one, he went off to create more. But when he
knows I’m on a hunt, he usually disappears to the final clue to wait for me.
With a snicker on his face, he handed me an envelope.
The hunt begins.
I closed my eyes and counted to 22 so he could make his escape.
I never peaked to see which direction he headed because I always knew I would
find him and my treasure. I also knew that he liked to run off in random
directions in hopes of making me lose the trail.
I opened the envelope, which held my first clue. Just two words:
“Grrr, argh!”
Pirate speak… Black Bart, of course! I knew where this was going
to lead… the beach!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
![]() |
Grrr,... Argh! |
A few months ago, we walked down our usual path to the beach. At
the end of the path, there were a bunch of palm trees. We were playing tag and
I chose a random tree to be my “safe” place when I got tired. As I was
leaning against it, catching my breath I noticed the random markings looked
like a skull.
I called a time out and said “Arrrgggg!” as I pointed it out to
him. It took him a second and then he saw it. We nicknamed this tree “Black
Bart”. That was our new code word for “beach”.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When I got to our tree, I looked in his eye socket. There was a
tiny clear vial in it. I took it out and examined it. There was a black viscous
liquid in it. Oil! Why would he put oil in a vial for me?
I looked at it for a while and let it reflect in the sun,
racking my brain, trying to figure out the clue Dylan left me.
And what did that mean to me? A rainbow, of course.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I often would come by Dylan’s house after school. One afternoon,
his brother was changing the oil for his car. Some of it leaked on the ground.
I was examining it when Dylan came up behind me with a glass of lemonade. I
jumped at his sudden appearance because I was so focused on looking at the
colors that were in the oil. He laughed at my reaction, and asked “what were
you staring at?”
I pointed to the ground and said, “it looks like a rainbow!”
I was so intrigued, that I even ran to get a paint brush and
paper to see what it would look like on a different surface. Didn’t look like
much, but I had to try. I ruined my brush and my mom freaked out about the
fumes and made me throw everything away. I was so upset that she did that. I
didn’t understand what the big deal was.
I can’t believe he remembered that!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Rainbow Arch is just down the street!

I was starting to examine the individual arches as a family with
a young kid came around. I tried not to get in their way as they walked
through, then I saw the kid point to something and ask “What does this mean
mamma?”
He pointed to “CCXXII” written and encircled in green chalk.
222! How did I miss that? I must have been looking for a physical clue, instead
of a symbol.
The number 2 has always been special to us. He was born on May 2nd and
I was born on August 22nd. We met in 2nd grade in
room 22, how crazy is that?! We dispute it, but he swears we even met on the 2nd.
I think he’s adding on extra things, but he has a knack for detail, so who am I
to dispute it?
But why was it circled? Hmm… oh right! There are circled numbers
on the Boardwalk!
I ran over and found number 301. I followed it until
I found 222. My search led me to the harbor. This made a lot more sense. After
all, we spent countless days here watching the boats, wishing that we could be
out on the seas like real pirates, seeking adventure and treasure.
I looked around. I didn’t see him. I looked around to see if
there was another clue or flag that would steer me in the right direction.
I walked through a few shops and along the walkway. It was
pretty crowded because it was summer and the tourists were around. I racked my
brain to figure out where he would be. I circled through the whole area and
nothing gave me a sense of where I could find him.
It was a particularly hot day and after all that searching, I
wanted a snack. I went to the ice cream shop and got my usual, double scoop of
cookies and cream. The guy handed me my cone and in addition to my receipt, he
gave me an envelope. I asked him, “What’s this?”
He said, “I don’t know. A kid paid me $5 to give this to the
first girl who ordered 2 scoops of cookies and cream, and paid with exact
change in coins; you were her.”
I always preferred coins to dollars. Even though it was heavier,
it made me feel like I had gold treasure, like the pirates did. I also felt a
strange satisfaction in always being able to give exact change.
Dylan used to tease me all the time. He liked having bills, but
hated change. When he’d get change, he’d give it to me, and if he needed
anything under $0.49, I always gave him exact change so he could get bills
back.
I took my ice cream and envelope and fished out a dollar for his
tip.
It was another clue! I can’t believe he’d know I would get ice
cream. How did he know that?!
I went outside to eat my ice cream. I ate hastily so I could see
what was in the envelope.
A note with a key card…
Roses are red
Violets are blue
If you want to see your prize,
Return this to Marina 2.
I finished my ice cream and headed over to Marina 2. I used the
card to get through the gate and after getting to the bottom of the ramp, I saw
red poker chip. It had the number 2 on it. I picked it up and put it in my
pocket. A little way down, I saw another one, so I picked that up as well. I
found a few more and stopped in front of a boat that had 5 chips stacked
neatly.
Before I finished putting them in my pocket I heard a familiar
voice, “Finally!” exclaimed Dylan as he popped out of one of the sail boats.
“Didn’t I tell you my dad’s friend just got a boat!?”
“Oh, yeah, I think you mentioned it…”
He pointed to the back of the boat.
“They let me name it!” Dylan said with a big smile. “And I named
it after you!”
“Winnie”
He never called me “Pooh” again.
Labels:
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writing
Friday, November 1, 2013
between hello and goodbye
Writing Prompt #5 Between hello and goodbye
“Why, hello there!” I said as a 2 month old beagle puppy ran over and started sniffing at me. I looked at the owner, and asked if it was ok to pet his dog.
“Sure, her name is Poppet.”
This pup was one of those who, when she shook her tail from excitement, there was a ripple effect through her whole body.
Source: CrapWeLike |
I rubbed her behind her big floppy ears and she gently tried to nip at my hands.
“Who’s a good girl?” I cooed at her, as I continued to play with her and rub her head.
I love these dogs. They are young and everything is exciting and new. The world is for their exploring and they are just so darn HAPPY!
After a few more ear scratches, I patted her back.
“Thanks!” I said to her owner.
“Goodbye Poppet!” I said with a final pat on the head.
Thursday, October 31, 2013
Sunday, October 27, 2013
your character wakes up in the past, when they were still with a lover who would later on break their heart. how do they handle this?
Writing Prompt #4 Your character wakes up in the
past, when they were still with a lover who would later on break their heart.
How do they handle this?
As I wake up, I notice
something familiar, yet somewhat foreign. His smell: that wonderful smell of him.
I stretch to shake off
my drowsiness and hear his voice, “Good morning, Sleepy.” His face is close to mine and he playfully
kisses my nose. I love it when he does that.

He is in a really good
mood this morning and I remember exactly how he looked when the sun hit him on
this particular day. This day is when we
realize we are in love.
This was almost 3 years
to the day when he would take his own life because of the depression he
suffered after losing his brother to a freak accident the year before. No one
could lift him out of the darkness. No one could reach him,… not even me.
I had often awoken to
moments like these, when the past came back to life with memories so vivid and
real that for a moment, everything seemed as it was, as it should have been. I
would reach for him and feel the coolness of the sheets, where he used to lie
beside me, only to fully awaken to realize he was indeed, still gone.
This is different. I feel
his warmth as he lies next to me. I feel his strong arms as he pulls me closer.
He smiles that incredible smile, just as I remember, looks down at me and blurts
out, “I love you so much!”
“I love you too!” I
reply feeling my heart swell; this is the first time we ever say those words to
each other. Relief washes over him as he pulls me even closer to him and kisses
me deeply.
Tears started to well in
my eyes, but I push them down. I need to enjoy this moment. I kiss him deeper
and hold him tighter.
I don’t ever want to let
go.
Labels:
break your heart,
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