Some Sort Of DreamWard Bound

success

This week was a good week. I was productive, although you, my blog, saw none of it. I have a couple of poems that I will be typing up and posting this week. I also worked on my book for 7 hours last Saturday and painted for a few hours on Sunday.

In addition I am gearing up for my first improv show. I’ve of course have acted in scripted plays and musicals before, but never an improv show. I am really excited to be getting back on stage. It is not for a couple of months, but we still need to get performance ready.

Since it is almost Halloween I am also working on getting everything ready for my work’s Haunted House.  It is turning into more work than I have time for, but it is fun. Really, anything besides writing and acting takes up too much time in my opinion, at this moment. It is fun being creative in this way. It is basically putting on a production with very little resources.

This week’s post is pretty short and I am trying to think of other things to write, but there is nothing. I also just want to type up the poems I wrote and get going on my day, so that is what I will do.

I hope you have a wonderful week and enjoy or enjoyed the two posts that I wrote this week.

weekly writing prompt

Pen Poem

Weekly Writing Prompts (#32)

encouragement

  1. Write a poem about relief. What does it feel like? How does it come? When does it happen?
  2. Write a monologue about goals or dreams (if you don’t have goals). Focus on your relationship with them. Talk about the goals or dreams as if they are characters. What is your relationship with them? How did they first come around?
  3. You are walking up your stairs in your house and you hear a crash from the floor you just were on. You thought you were home alone. What happens next?
  4. Write a character description that is at first a vague description of a family member. Write a first draft with this family member in mind. Go back at least twice giving the character more traits and more details that are not necessarily your family member’s traits and details. The focus should be using a real person to  write a fictional one.
  5. How does time affect you? What is your relationship with time? Creatively answer these two questions.

I Am A Soggy Bagel

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Today I got dressed up. I felt like I needed to look good. I wanted to take extra time for myself, so in the morning I woke up early. I put on my new cream cheese spread and wore heels. I even did my make-up. I was looking amazing if I do say so myself.

I started my car and went to work. I was on the highway when it started to rain and then I got a flat tire. I pulled over to change the tire. As soon as my car was safely on the side of the highway the clouds fully opened up. Have you ever seen a bagel in high heels changing a tire when it was raining buckets? I am sure I was amusing the drivers with all four tires intact that drove by. I just know it was not fun changing that tire and I was almost instantly soggy. After a few nice people did stop to help I finally had my tire changed to the spare.

I stopped, soaking wet, at a tire store. They changed the spare out for a new regular tire and I was off to work, again. The only real different was that I was no longer fancy or looking amazing. I was simply a soggy bagel in heels.

Weekly Writing Prompts (#31)

encouragement

  1. Write a monologue or a characters thoughts about their personality. The character could be you. Focus on what it means to be categorized in certain personality types.  Think about either introvert, extrovert, or a Myers-Briggs personality type (INFP, ESJT, etc). Let the monologue or thoughts be about how the defined personality group that you are in effect you or your character.
  2. Write a short story about community or family. What does it feel like to be around loving people? What happens when you are around your favorite people? Does that change your mood or anything else? If it does example.
  3. Write a poem about relaxing. What do you do? Where are you most relaxed? What does it feel like to you?
  4. Write about what it feels like to be gearing up for something big. It can be a big project, a wedding, a new baby, a move, or anything else that is life changing. Simply write about the feelings and thoughts about the big change.
  5. Your cat or dog or other pet is actually a magic being that was waiting for the right moment to tell or show you what he/ she really was. In an amazing show your pet shows you his/hers true form or powers. What happens next?

I Am A Hurt Bagel

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The other day I woke up and my body was a bit stale. I thought nothing of it until later in the day. I started to workout with Baguette. I stretched and then ran. I was fine until we started to do the floor exercises. I should restate that. It was not until I tried to do the floor exercises that I started to feel real pain. I was falling ungracefully as Baguette showed me what to do. Yes, she did the floor exercises and I flopped around. I wound up getting unnaturally twisted up and my staleness turned into real pain. It was so bad that I could not fall asleep that night.

Thankfully us Bagels heal fast with a little wet heat. I was back to my non-exercising self within a day.

 

 

Weekly Writing Prompt (#30)

encouragement

  1. Write a short story in the steampunk genre where there is an inventor who invents or creates a realistic Android or robot. (The link attached to “steampunk” will bring you to its Wikipedia page.)
  2. What was the last thing that happened in your life that you would define as cute. Write that experience down and expand on how it brightened your day. Who were the characters involved? What did you feel? What was around you, meaning what was the setting?
  3. Think hard about what you want the world to know or hear. If you had the entire world’s attention for only 1 minute what would you say?
  4. Tell the story of the longest friendship that you have or had. Focus on short episode or short stories of your life that best showcase your friendship.
  5. You or your character finds out that the supernatural/ paranormal is real and that most of it simply takes place in an alternate reality. You find all this out because you are brought to another reality to help save it.

Weekly Writing Prompt (#29)

encouragement

  1. Write a poem describing physical pain. Start the poem with creative imagery about how the pain started but then go into how it feels. What causes it to grow? Where is the relief?
  2. Do you have a mentor? Write a character description about him/ her. What are they like? What makes them someone to look up to?
  3. Retell a story you heard from a friend or someone else in your life. Use different names and if you forget a detail use your own imagination. Basically use a story you heard as a prompt, trying to keep it as close to the original as possible.
  4. Two brother’s walk into a bar and start asking about the strange local crime that has happened. You hadn’t heard about anything strange, but the more you listen the more you realize you fit the target demographic. What do you do? What happens next? (yes, I am ready for Season 11 of Supernatural to start.)
  5. You meet the person that you have you are the biggest fan of. You’ve waited in lines and get up to actually see him/her. What do you want to do? What do you actually do?

Black clad Assassin

black Clad Assassin

 

The perimeter of his little camp must have been weaker than he thought because he was awakened by the nose of a black horse with black eyes and black reigns. Everything about this horse was black including the rider who sat on the horse’s black saddle. The only thing that was not black was the whites of the rider’s eyes.

The rider stared at William, the now frightened man, as the black leather clad rider dismounted the black horse. William could see the crest of the deadly assassin clan pressed into the leather right where the heart should be. No one knew if this clan had hearts or if they were monsters sent to kill the poor mortals that got in their way. Not much was known about them. Only two things were known for sure, their crest had five stars and a bird, and a single assassin could kill entire villages.

Slowly the rider, who wore 2 swords, walked over to William. Only when the black clad rider was looming over William were words spoken. “Do you have food?” The words came from behind the black clothe mask, however they were surprisingly feminine. William could tell that the low register of the voice was forced and it was softer than he was expecting.

“You’re a lady.” A shocked William stated.

Before William could answer the question or even think another thought there was a dagger pressed against his throat. “I will slice your throat either way.”

William, a simple monk who was only out of the monastery due to a change in assignment was silent until the assassin asked the question again, “Do you have food or will I have to slit your throat?”

“I have food. I have bread.” A shaky voiced William answered. He stayed still until the dagger was lowered.

He went into his satchel and took out his 2 loaves of bread and offered them to the one clad in black. She took one ripped it in half and gave the other half back to William.

When William gave a confused look at the woman who was supposed to be a ruthless killed she answered the look by sitting down and stating, “I will not repay generosity with greed. You are not my target, so you will be safe.”

Neither one of them spoke as they ate the bread. William simply sat cross-legged as he at and watched the assassin. She had pulled her mask up to eat and William saw that her skin was only black because of the black grease makeup she wore where her mask did not cover. She was actually quite pale, especially compared to his heavily tanned skin. He also watched how she sat. The assassin sat with only one leg on the ground. The other was bent with the foot on the grounds as if she needed to be ready to spring to her feet at any moment. She also kept her dagger in one hand and the bread in the other.

They both sat and watched the other eat uncertain what would happen if either one of them spoke.

When the assassin was done with her bread, she stood and stated, “Tell no one of this meeting or you will become a target for my clan.”

She mounted her horse before William could confirm that he would not tell a soul. She did not need to wait for the confirmation though, she knew her clan’s reputation and knew he would heed her command.

 

Otis, The Hunter.

 

 

 Otis, The Hunter.
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Otis, the fat grayish-tan feline with thick black stripes, almost sat down next to me as if he wanted to be near the comfort of a human. Before his bum touched the blanket I had brought out onto the roof, Otis heard a noise. It was the famed climbing of a squirrel, that needed to be hunted. There was no time to cuddle the squirrel invader had to be stopped. Only the heroic house cat could hunt and stop this beast, so Otis crouched down and very slightly crept to the skylight, that since it was raised gave a littler cover for his sneak attack. Then since time was of the essence he bolted towards the wild beast, which actually gave the squirrel enough time to see the house cat and climb back to the top of the tree yelling at the cat as it climbed. Otis, who thought himself brave and a great hunter,continued to stalked the frightened and angry sounding squirrel to another higher tree.

Unfortunately the hunt had to end since Otis is a fat house cat who could not even get onto one of the trees. After a minute or less Otis came back to the blanket wanting the petting he ran away from a few moments earlier.

Not A Ordinary Walk

encouragement

Take a walk outside and describe your path or street as if you are from a different planet and have never seen ordinary things, like trees or houses. This is from my weekly writing prompt series.

I walk down a hard grey path that has tiny bumps that would be unpleasant to walk barefooted on. There are dwelling places on both sides of this path with some green ground coverings. I walk down until I see an artificial looking hill that uses a combination of flat surfaces and tiny smooth cliffs. I walk down this built hill and find that the land below it is different.

This land has no path and is not as solid as the path or artificial hill.  Tiny grains of tan, white, and brown move under my feet as I walk. I am moving the land under me as I hear a rhythm of strange movement. There is a massive body of liquid creating this musical noise. The liquid mass stretches far beyond my sight and moves up as it sounds its rumbling music, but then it is pulled away. I pause and the clear liquid rushes over my feet. It is cold and I do not dare go in any further. Although what rushed over my feet was clear as the volume grows it becomes hard to see the ground or what is in the liquid.

I stay on the moving land before going back to the artificial hill and down the grey path.

The Bagel Love Affair

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I am a bagel and I think I am in love. I meant him the other day in a bakery. We were both there to say good-bye to family members that were sent there to leave this world. I was too late all the little bagels that I once called kin were already bought and eaten.

It was still early in the morning and his little cousins were still on display, just waiting for their turn to leave.

You see, he is a cupcake and a sweet one too, with thick Swiss butter cream frosting for hair and a double chocolate body. I couldn’t take my eyes off his sweetness, as he said good-bye to his cousins.

He saw that I had been too late to say good-bye to my kin, so he gave me a sugary shoulder to cry on. We walked around the little down town street, sipping coffee, and talking about how being baked goods was, especially when it meant knowing so little of our kind makes it pass a day old.

We soon had to part ways. He had to get back to work and I had to work on scheduling my traveling trip. We were able to setting up another date, before my schedule departure and exchanged numbers so that we would be able to talk as I traveled the world, learning about how different cultures treated bagels and now all baked goods.

Weekly Writing prompt

encouragement

I am going to try doing this weekly writing prompt series on a Mondays now. Usually it will be later on Mondays, since I usually have to work and then go to BJJ class. I have today off of work, though, so I get to focus on writing and things.

Now, here are some writing prompts for you and me.

  1. Write a poem or short story with the sentence, “I didn’t want to tell my dreams to someone new.”
  2. Take a walk outside and describe your path or street as if you are from a different planet and have never seen ordinary things, like trees or houses.
  3. Write a story about a Dragon who saves the princess from the knight. (I found this on Writers Write Creative Blog  I actually found it on pinterest, but that blog wrote it and put it on there.)
  4. List a Character’s traits first and then write about them.
  5. Write a poem about an inanimate object, making it seem alive in the poem.

Gertrude (A Character Description)

encouragement

Writing Prompt
Design a sci-fi/ fantasy hero. What is his or her world like? What is his or her background? What makes this character unlike the rest?  What makes them unique?

She lives in a city of wealthy skyscrapers and wrecked apartment buildings. She lives in a city where the criminals out number those who try to do good. Gertrude lives  in a city where heroes are few. That is why Gertrude lives in this city.

She tried many ways to help her city. The city that her father had fought to save as mayor and her mother tried to help by setting up clinics for those who could not afford medical attention. Her brother tried to protect the city  by becoming a police officer.

Gertrude never had one thing that she did to help the city. There was too many options and too many areas that needed help to limit herself. She fed the homeless, she helped with the clinics, volunteered at every event she could. Still her father was framed and died in prison. Her mother was murdered leaving one of her clinics and her brother was put in a wheel chair when a robbery ended in a shoot out.

Her brother kept her in the city, but after his injury she knew she needed to save her city a different way. She needed to become a real hero, some how.

After convincing her brother they started to set up a plan, a way to lower crime and protect those that needed protection. She trained and learned every fight move shown to her the first time. She watched action movie fights, competitive fighting matches and practiced shooting arrow along with guns. After  a month of training every day they decided they needed another team member.

They needed someone who could train with Gertrude. It would have to be some one they both could trust, both knew well, and both thought could bring something that neither of them could bring. The decision was easy. The decided to bring in Gertrude’s best friend, who knew about the technology.

Now they had a team and found that Gertrude could learn quickly how to move her body. Gertrude and her friend continued to train every day, while her brother worked on their armor and their armory.

It was another month by the time the team was ready to start fighting the crime that riddled their city.

Gertrude was presented her custom armor with arsenal attached on sunny afternoon in their dark basement. The sun streamed in creating a pool of light where Gertrude stood in her canary yellow flowing sun dress and matching high heel shoes. Her caramel colored hair was neatly curled as she looked down at the suite of black armor. She was cautious picking it up as she was unsure if she would like wearing it.

At first her hourglass figure did not fit correctly into the crime fighting suite. After her brother pointed out that she was measured while wearing a sports bra she was able to fit with no issues. The material was strong, but Gertrude could easily move in it since the armor itself was multiple pieces that moved with her body.

Gertrude was then handed a bandanna to tie her hair back with and a jacket with a hood to wear over the armor. Finally she was given large boots that also had armor around them.

When Gertrude was dressed in her crime fighting outfit she looked excitedly in the mirror and was shocked. “I look like a man!”

“so?” Her brother asked.

“I’m not a man,” was Gertrude’s answer.

“Right, but what does that matter. It’s not like you’re wearing it to get a date. You are wearing that outfit to stay safe.”

Gertrude gave a huff of defeat. Her brother was right. She was going to risk her life in the outfit she was wearing. She needed to focus on her safety, not appearance. “Plus,” she thought, “when people start looking for the vigilante. They won’t think to look for a woman if I wear this.”

My Monday Night (Sort Of A Short Story)

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Hello and welcome to my Monday night. It was amazing and now I feel slightly broken. I am energized even though I am exhausted. I want to sleep now that my night is over, but too excited to even think of fully ending the night. You see I was wonderfully hurt and carefully punched. I was stressed, pushed, and rolled. I learned what hurts and how to hurt, but never trying to hurt the other.

Hello and welcome to my Monday night. I got to class early and started to prepare. I did not have a pen and there was no paper. I did not sit at a desk and no books would be found. I got to class early and changed into my warrior’s clothing. I put on the pants that match the top. I tied my belt as tight as it could go and I prepared for class.

Hello and welcome to my Monday night. I ran among men and pushed myself to do what they do. I pushed myself hard as deep voices counted the numbers of the challenge. I struggled to prove myself to myself as the advanced classmates pushed on  stronger. Still I pushed on alongside them.

Hello and welcome to my Monday night. It’s a night where I introduce myself to different men, well some are boys. I introduce myself to them all the same. I give them a fist bump before the fun starts. I push when they pull or pull when they push. If I stop to think they either help and tell me what to do or the show me how stopping is the enemy. I do not know most of these partners, but still we roll and tug at each other struggling to win the round. The first round could be easy with only clothes touching clothes. The first round could be a small lesson with my partner telling me how to win. Or the first round could be personal and trusting with a face full of your partner’s sweaty  torso. Any way the first rounds start they start, I learn, they end.

Hello and welcome to my Monday night. Join me on this adventure of life and lessons. All the pain and sweat is worth it.

Imagine Dragons And Airplanes (a Short Story)

Weencouragement

Writing prompt
Imagine a world where airplanes and dragons or other mythical flying creature exist together. What would flight look like? What would travel be like?

She stood at the airport waiting for her ride wearing her green dress that flared at her hips. She waited as cars picked up loved ones and unicorns picked up their masters. She waited and waited.  She almost went back inside to call a taxi cab when a loud crashing sound and a terrifying roar of pain came blasting down the road where people were being picked up.

The lady looked towards the crash and saw a miniature dragon clumsily  down a lane trying not to hit or even crush the cars in the other two lanes. You see although he was a miniature dragon, he was still as long as a truck and each of his wings stretched out would also be as long as a truck. The lady gasped out of fear for the creature and for the people in the cars that he was trying so hard not to hit.

She feared for them until she saw who was riding the dark green scaled animal. Her husband rode on the dragon’s two person saddle. She smiled and rolled her eyes, “This is your surprise? We can’t afford a dragon!”

Finally her husband was close enough to climb down the great beast and hug his wife. He gave her a kiss in which he dipped her in his arms. When they parted he smiled his charming smile that made her fall in love with him, so many years before. That is when he stated, “No, my new job is the surprise. This is just a little reward.”

“Nothing about a dragon is little.” The lady said and as she did the dragon leaned down to sniff her. He then lightly licked her as a sign of affection. She stared at the dragon’s purple eyes not wanting to like the animal, but finding that hard. “Just don’t fly too high, okay? I just got off a plane I don’t need to feel like I’m back on one.”

“Don’t worry honey. Bae, can’t go that high with two of us. One day soon, we should take him to a field, so that you can see how high he can go.”

She nodded and he loaded her two bags onto Bae’s back before helping her into her side of the saddle. They were then off flying a few feet over traffic; happily in between the airplanes and cars.

 

 

My Bad Morning (a Short Story)

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This is based on a true story.

I woke up today, not wanting to get out of bed. It was nothing big. I just did not want to go to work. I wanted the weekend to come a day early.

I did wake up and I did get out of bed. I got ready and decided to take part in my work’s fancy Friday. You see when you work in a company of hackers, who also have nerd tendencies, casual dress is more common than not. Most days people dress in jeans and t-shirts, but not on Friday. Friday people dress up. There is one person who appreciates fancy Fridays the most and who I believe started the tradition. It was this person’s birthday, so I thought it would be nice and cool if I dressed up. I found my dress pants and my favorite button up shirt. I did my makeup and hair. I then put my heels on and went out the door.

I got a late from my favorite cafe. My day had a later than normal start, but it was going fine. It wasn’t until I got on the highway that everything stopped being fine. I heard a load noise as if my car was drive on something. I asked myself if something could be stuck under my car. I almost didn’t pull over, but decided it would be best. I got off the highway and the sound changed a bit to more of a thud-thud sound as if my tire was flat. I thought it strange since when I was on the highway it was just really loud. I pulled into a grocery stores parking lot and got out of my car. My tire was completely blown, with holes all of it.

It was still okay. I was going to change a tire. How hard could it be? I thought I had it all under control. I started with taking the spare tire out. This should be the easiest part right? I just needed to undo the bolt and slide it out from under my car. It sounds simple, but when you are dressed up, determined to stay clean and need to pull something out from under your car things get difficult. On top of staying clean I did not want to get my clothes wet, because it had rained the night before and as soon as I started to try to get the spare tire out it started to sprinkle. I wound up doing yoga positions and weird poses just to figure out what I could do to get the tire out from under my car. Finally after a fight and a struggle I freed the dirty rescue tire from its cage.

Now, it was time to get the jack in place. Again, this should be easy, right? Don’t you just put it under you car and crank it up? Apparently the answer to both those questions was ‘no.’ After the wheel did not move, but the car frame moved I decided to look at my manual. It was inside in my glove compartment.

I went the front of my car and saw my delicious latte sitting abandoned. I thought it best to show it some love by taking a sip. It thought it best to spill all over my car. Thankfully I did not get burned, because it was lukewarm by now. Yes, I got to enjoy one, maybe two sips of hot coffee before my tire blew and now the fight over the spare tire caused my coffee to be lukewarm.

I sighed a heavy sigh and started to flip through the manual to figure out what to do with the jack. It had now started to full-out rain. Once I thought I had everything in control people started to ask my if I needed help. I was too proud and too confident to let them. I was going to finish this task. I could do it. I know I am a woman who is looking fancy, but I can do it. I can change a tire. I didn’t need any help.

I did get the jack in place and the tire ready to be taken off. I now just needed to get the nuts off. In the movies they make it seem pretty easy. Plus, this is harder than it should have been already, so now the easy part should happen. I am almost done. I just need to get the tire off.

Well, after a few minutes of trying to getting them off with increasing force a nice older man came over to should me a trick. He got on the wrench thing and jumped. Yes, I called it a wrench thing. I do not know the right name for the tool that came in the back with the jack. Also, yes, he did stand, full weight on the thing and jumped. I thought awesome I know how to do it now. I thanked him thinking that was all I needed. I just needed a tip from a stranger. He accepted the gratitude and went on his way. So, in my heels I started to hop with both feet on the wrench thing. Nothing happened. I had a thought of, “hey, I’m light.” This thought was followed by, “Oh my goodness, I am so weak I can’t even get this nut to loosen.” Thankfully after a minute of hopping on the wrench thing another man came and helped me. He told me to lower the jack and loosened the nuts for me.

After I finished taking the nuts off the wheel was easy to get off. I was almost done. I just needed to get the spare tire on and then drive  less than a mile to the tire store. By now though I knew that stupid tire wasn’t going to be easy. I just picked it up and waited until find the issue. It was aligning the holes with the bolts. I felt like I was trying to line up an ancient key with its keyhole. It took longer than it should have. Of course, the entire process took longer than it should have. Finally, after one more person asked to help me, which I refused on the fact that it was only the spare tire now, I was able to get it on.


I got up with my outfit still clean and was meant with one more nice person. It was really surprising to me how many people actually wanted to help me. I told the guy I was done, but I figured it wouldn’t hurt for him to check to make sure they were tight enough. He did and was able to tighten them a bit more.

I was now off to the tire store, where I was told that all four actually needed to be replaced. While they were pricing the tires I cleaned my hands and arms, which were the only things to get dirty. I then went and decided that I never wanted to change a tire again, so got all four new tires in hopes that it would at least postpone the tire changing nightmare.

I waited an hour in the waiting room before I was able to go to work. I got to work and after an hour I went to get a snack. I made myself peanut butter on toast. I was still proud of myself and happy that I did not get any dirt on my clothes. I tell you this because after I finished with my snack I looked down and saw that some peanut butter had dropped on my shirt along with my pants. I just had to laugh that I can change a tire while staying clean, but can not eat and stay clean.

I hope you enjoyed reading about my morning. I know I will one day when I am not frustrated with how long it took. 

Travelling Bagel

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Yes this story now comes with its own cheesy looking picture. 

After my lovely vacation returning home seemed like a prison, where no one appreciated me for being a talking bagel. No one values me for the bagel I am, so I am going to go traveling. I will see the world and learn all about the different bagel cultures around the world.

Yes, I am heading off soon, so next time you hear from me I will some where exotic. I will be in some new place where people don’t tell me to shut up or think me less because I am a breakfast food.

I told my friends that I was going to go travel the world and learn all about the different bagels. They only laughed and told me, “You can’t travel the world you’re a bagel.”

I will show them though. I will go and experience life.

This Was Written By A Bagel.

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Imagine for a moment going off and having a wonderful vacation. You lay on the beach for  days. You are free to do anything you want. The only thing you have to do is relax and have fun.

Well, I just had that vacation. It was a dream vacation. I was happy and it was as if the sun was shining just for me. I was warm and toasted from the sun with a big smile on my face.

After arriving home and unpacking I went out to meet my friends at the local bar where we hang out. I bounced over to say hello with my mind filled with wonderfully delightful stories to share with my friends. However, before I could say anything more than, “Hi guys.”

The guy with black hair and a beard shouted, “Shut up you’re a bagel!”

The group laughed and some one else chuckled out, “She’s a toasted bagel now.

I went, got myself a drink and waited for the laughter to die down. It did and by the end of the night I told one story about my vacation, which was really all I wanted to do.

To The Beach

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I took a walk today to give myself time to think. I walked down to  the beach, thinking inspiration will find me with my feet in the sand. Yet, even before I stood on the shore I was reminded of my mind and a muse came whispering in my ear. He said, “feel your feet on the rough ground below. The asphalt hurts the souls of your feet, right?” Yes, the road below me was rough and hard to walk on without any shoes being worn. Still, I walked on knowing that the rough road would make the soft sand feel that much better.

I got to the stairs that led to my destination of cooling sand on this wonderfully peaceful evening to find that the night had long-held claim over the steps. The darkness of this alley way was caused by the two homes that blocked any moonlight or street light from entering. Still I felt the each step on my way down knowing that once I turned the corner there would light once more.

Now, at the bottom with my feet in the sand and my eyes taking in the romantic moonlight the ocean breeze blew cold. For a moment I thought it was too cold, but when my ear opened they heard the breeze creating a melody with the ocean’s waves crashing on the shore and the distant wind chimes singing like bells I knew that no cold would be too much for this beauty. The breeze then felt fine and reminded me that my body was still hot from the workout at the gym. The wind became a comfort not a burden, calming me instead of shutting my senses down.

I walked along the dark shore keeping my senses aware but my mind was thinking. It realized that although the road was rough relief came. Although times were dark light was found around a corner. Finally, my mind realized that although it may seem like the wind is cold if you change your perspective something that seems like a burden can be a comfort.

 

For a Second Time I am A Bagel (short story)

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I am still a bagel living my bagel life. I wake up and go to work. I come home and some night I hang out with friends.

While sharing conversation and company with my closest friend a question about pain came up. My friend did not ask about sorrow or the pain that came from hardship. His question was more simple. “Can bagels feel pain?” He pondered out loud to the group.

I was off put a little by the idea that the thought even arose in his head. Of course bagel felt pain. Every living thing can feel pain in one way or another. I being a bagel physical feels pain when some one pokes me, squeezes me too tightly in their hands and when they start to cut into my sides. Every time a knife comes near I must declare that I am still living and beg them not to cut me open.

I also feel great emotional pain. I feel this deep sorrow when I see my people sold as slaves to become someone’s breakfast. My heart breaks when I see the joy of a monster biting down on an unfortunate bagel. As that monster bites down on their bagel my soul crumbles as it can feel the mashing and breaking of a fellow bagel.

I am lost in my thoughts of pain as my friends continue to ponder and had almost come to the conclusion that bagel could not feel any type of pain. It was at the conversation’s end that I told them that bagels could feel pain.

The did not believe me and one of the others changed the topic before much more could be said. I did not mind the change in conversation, since I did not want to explain to people who should have known that bagels feel pain.

It appears that this whole “I am a bagel” is starting to be a thing within my group of friends.  I am not fighting it and actually may start a video series about being a bagel. I just need to make/ get a bagel puppet. I say get because it’s just going to be a bagel with olive eyes and pretzel sticks for legs and arms. The friends of a bagel may be difficult to do though.

We shall see what happens with this. I am enjoying writing the short stories at least.