Smile when your heart is breaking!



I am still shocked and confused by the outcome of the Presidential election, and I am upset with all the people, who so arrogantly thought they know it all.

“Don’t you worry, Trump will never be President, in the end, it all will be fine. The U.S. has a way to stop people like him. We have a constitution and an election process that works.”

Really Sherlock, and how did that work out for you? Continue reading

Robbery – Friday Fictioneers



Photography by CEayr


“I hope they don’t find out where I hide everything,” Sheila thought as she continued to walk toward the old exit. 

At home nothing was safe anymore, they were merciless.

Sooner or later they would go through her things.

She stepped over the chain and leaned her forehead against the cold stone. She felt exhausted.

“I have no choice; I have to get things out of the house.”

Sheila turned around; made sure nobody had followed her.

“Next year the Twins will be older and I will hide the Christmas presents at home,” she mumbled as she opened the door.

(Word count: 100)

Writing a post for the Friday Fictioneers is so much more pleasant than reading the news in the morning. Thank you, Rochelle!

Time to get ready for the day, there is a turkey waiting. Happy Thanksgiving everybody!


The Power of Fear

Fear is powerful beyond measure. When we are afraid we pull back. I hope I will go to bed tonight without any fear of tomorrow.

Myths of the Mirror


“Fear,” the man said. “Fear has long, fine fingers.”

Grigor Phelan found fear intriguing, full of subtleties, an art form one contemplated because nothing of its shape or color or texture was what it appeared. Fear spanned a spectrum from the subtle edge of respect to unbounded terror, and he was most attracted to what lay in between, in the murky hues of human sentiment. He was charmed by the guises of fear, how it hid itself from its host, how it crouched on the rim of consciousness. Like a child’s kaleidoscope, fear proved changeable, multi-faceted, and often lovely as it turned. It might wear the face of generosity or compassion, decency or loyalty, adoration or threat. It could be manipulated by the most benign of words or actions, or pace like a wolf at the edge of a nightfire, seeking a way in.  (Myths of the Mirror

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The Story of Jack O’Lantern


As the legend goes, several centuries ago in Ireland, there lived a drunk who was known as “Stingy Jack.” Nobody liked him, he cheated, he lied, and he played tricks on people. One night the Devil overheard the tale of Jack’s evil deeds. Unconvinced and envious of the rumors, the devil went to find out for himself, whether or not Jack lived up to his mean reputation. Continue reading

Destination unknown

“The Station”
Tucked away in our subconscious is an idyllic vision.
We are traveling by train, out the windows,
we drink in the passing scenes of children
waving at a crossing,
cattle grazing on a distant hillside,
row upon row of corn and wheat,
flatlands and valleys,
mountains and rolling hillsides
and city skylines.  Continue reading