Always a Scent~#3tc #affair #themagicshop


The sound of keys being inserted into the door’s lock told Linda Wojcik that the proverbial “shit was about to hit the fan”.  Her Husband, Peter of three years had come home early from work for a very specific reason.  Through some various reliable sources, Linda had found out that Peter suspected her of having an affair with another man. Today, as it turns out was time for Peter to investigate these claims.  Twenty  minutes earlier, Linda had gotten a text warning from her Best friend, Angela Stancyz that Peter sped out of his place of employment to head straight home.  Linda jumped out of bed, screamed at her lover to leave immediately and she then proceeded to clean up all evidence of this latest daily tryst of hers.   The sheets were pulled up and the pillows were puffed smooth.   Linda then checked her bedroom floor and then the bathroom’s.  Her lover ran out in such a rushed state,  Linda had to be certain nothing was left behind.

The front door slammed open just as Linda spotted her lover’s Sock on the floor in the living room in front of the couch. (the couple’s feats of passion had started here first) like a cat pouncing on a mouse, Linda dove on the floor and grabbed the incriminating footwear seconds before Peter rushed in.

“ALRIGHT, WHERE IS HE?”  Peter shouted at Linda as he started to frantically look around the apartment.

“Why are you on the floor? WHATS GOING ON HERE, LINDA?”  Peter had stopped in the kitchen and was now standing there as if he was considering the next place to look in his home.

Some beads of sweat starting to appear on Linda’s forehead.   She held the Sock in her left hand scrunched up to avoid being seen.   Still, Peter was very good at noticing things out-of-place.   A towel not folded properly or a picture frame hung crooked,  Peter had a keen sense for the out of the ordinary.  Linda had to get rid the sock-and fast.

“I fell Peter, That is all  nothing to worry about.” Linda stared up at him with the same brown eyes that she had used to seduce Peter four years previous. Little did she realize then that being married to him would turn out to be incredibly dull.

Peter shook his head in disgust and headed down the hall into their bedroom.   This was Linda’s only chance.   She got up on her feet and started to head towards the kitchen garbage.   Her lover would have to just buy another pair of sox.   A small price to pay after what she had given them within the last two hours.   Linda was three steps away from the kitchen’s entrance when she heard Peter step out of the bedroom and into the hallway.  She stopped short in her tracks, frozen from total panic.  Her mind started racing.

Think,  Linda think!

She looked down at her leggings for pockets, which there were none.  Her heart was pounding with even more intensity  as Peter got closer and closer.  The sock was now moist from the panicking sweat in Linda’s  hand. Her eyes darted around the apartment finally stopping on the large vase that her mother in law had given as a wedding present. Linda ran over to the end table where the vase stood and crammed the sock down into its base. She then spun around and faced Peter just as he took his last step out of the hallway.

“Linda, my darling. I am so sorry, that I accused you.” Peter’s tone had drastically changed to one of genuine remorse. He took some gentle steps towards Linda with his arms outstretched. The trial was over and Linda felt herself slowly feeling relieved and calm.

Peter embraced Linda and kisses her on the lips. He pushes her away with a look of confusion. He had smelled something familiar, A fruity scent that came off the side of Linda’s neck.  It took a minute for Peter to recognize the aroma, it was of Apricot.  Then Peter remembered where he had smelled this before.  It was a particular favorite body spray of his twin sister, Petra.

Peter looked at Linda with this sudden look of quiet shock and accusation.

“Linda….You and…Petra???”  he whispered to her.

Linda stood there first looking stunned and then guilty.  She backed up into the table almost knocking over the vase that still had a sock crammed inside.  Her cheeks now appearing to give off a slightly embarrassed glow of red.

“What can I say?” Linda purred.

“I really like your family, Peter”. Linda then smiled knowing full well that she may have hidden the physical evidence of her affair really well but, the scent of a lover always gives you away.


This short was inspired by the Three Things Challenge prompts: sock, vase, Apricot

A Nod to her Blog~#rhyme #MwsR #themagicshop


Since I’ve joined this world of online creative writing, I’ve been introduced to so many talented artists. One of them is MWS. Her blog is fun and her poetry quite touching. The only way I can express my appreciation of another artist is by writing about them, of course. Thanks, MWS!

I discovered a lady with a wonderful smile,

She is known to write poetry in a beautiful style.

Her blog often has some lyrics to sing,

Recipes to try out if cooking’s your thing.

Acts of kindness she often points out,

This achievement of hers deserves its own happy shout!

An animal lover of all beasts great and small,

Doodles of hearts are her favorite to scrawl.

She also enjoys the simplicity of life

Expressing her passion in all that she writes

Apart~#poetry #breakup #themagicshop


Why are we like this?

Our familiarity has vanished

Withering without commitment

Return to me, remember us

Absence changes perception

These weeds of doubt have spread

We’re now cold to each other’s touch

A false couple being advertised

Disconnect this heart

Refuse my humanity

Leftover pains of passion arise

Always wounded without weapons

Word gets out, time to define

The press conference for us begins

A dinner for two that everyone attended

Curiosity devours their compassion

Our straps unbuckled, the ride is over

Two strangers get off, separate exits for us both

A breathless love that finally suffocated

We are one no more

The Toast ~#ttc #shortstory #themagicshop


This was going to be a good night for Frank Marcone.   He had invited his two best friends out on to his yacht named  the “VENUS” for a nighttime cruise. They had planned to head  out to a very  familiar spot for them out in the ocean.  A spot that Frank and his friends, Nicholas “Niceguy” Parconi and Angelo Schielzo, had been to once before. Tonight would bring these three men back to this old location to do a little relaxing and to toast champagne to their late comrade,  Ritchie DiNoto.   The four men had all been close associates in various sordid business ventures for many years.  Then one day Ritchie decided he wanted out of all things connected to his friends. Something had spooked him into no longer wanting the life that he was deeply involved with.   He grew tired of waking up every night in a pool of guilty sweat and simply wanted to retire to a safer existence.   Frank misinterpreted that for Ritchie possibly going straight to the feds.  Last year, on this same date in August the three other associates decided to grant Ritchie his wish.  The four of them would go out on this same ship at night to “retire” Ritchie.  All three men actually loved him as a brother, but business was business. The pretense that was given was for them to discuss pending business over beers and lobster’s tails out on the open water.  Halfway through the night and when they arrived at the appropriate spot,  Frank got up from his seat and stepped up behind Richie.  He pulled back Ritchie’s head and sliced his throat open with a twelve-inch serrated deboning knife.  Angelo and Nicholas stepped forward towards a now shocked Ritchie and proceeded to stab him multiple times in the chest and arms. Frank let them have their fun before jamming his knife into the back of Ritchie right between the shoulder blades. He plunged it in deep, fully planning on leaving it there for all eternity.  They then wrapped up the now lifeless body of  their former friend in a plastic tarp,  attached roped cinder blocks to his legs and tossed him over the side of the ship to sink deep into the darkness of  the ocean.

Frank being one for sentimentality decided to celebrate that night from a year ago and his dear friend’s legacy by going out on the event’s one year anniversary. Of course, he had to have the Angelo and Nicholas join him  in this blessed event. The boat now rocked here on the calm waters as the three men stood on the deck laughing and reminiscing about questionable practices.   It was a warm night out there with no other boats around for miles to spoil the intimacy of the event.

“Gentlemen, it’s time to pay our respects.” Frank said out to the open air,  exhaling a puff of smoke from a freshly lit cigar.

“Yea, lets finally toast this son of a bitch!” Angelo belted out loud over a belch reeking of beer.

Frank hands out two glass champagne glasses to both Angelo and Nicholas. He continues to suck on his cigar as he pulls out a bottle of champagne out of a cooler next to his leg.   Angelo and Nicholas stood around the cooler puffing on cigarettes anxiously  awaiting for their taste as Frank uncorked the bottle.  Some seagulls flew overhead cawing their presence to the world out into the silence of the night. Each glass was now filled right to the top of it’s rim.

“Let us raise our glasses, join them together as one for our dearly, departed friend”. Frank says this as he extends his arm up into the air, gesturing to his remaining two friends to join him. The three men stand there, touching each other’s glasses together in joy.

“Heres to Ritchie, our life long buddy!” Frank bellows out cheerfully.

Angelo and Nicholas repeat the chant, louder with more optimism.


A fourth glass of champagne clanks their glasses as it is reached out from the darkness from a shadow.

“Here’s to……me.” A voice quietly spoke from a mouth that sounded wet and soggy.

Frank, Angelo and Nicholas simultaneously dropped their glasses on the ship’s deck. They turned their heads and surprisingly recognized their deceased friend Ritchie. He was once known for deep blue eyes that melted the ladies when he stared at them.  Those eyes were now gone, eaten away and replaced with hollow rotted sockets. Water filled with algae drizzled from the stab wounds inflected on him. His lips had  receded back on his now  rotted face, revealing a mouth of  black teeth.

Frozen from pure fear, Ritchie’s three former associates just stood there.

“Hey Frank” Ritchie croaks as he raises his wrinkled hand to reveal the same twelve-inch knife that was left sticking out of his back a year before.

“Lets finish my toast.  SALUTE!”

Frank Marcone’s scream didn’t last very long after Ritchie pushed the knife all the way through Frank’s neck.

Turns out, it wasnt a good night at all for Frank or for his friends.


This short was inspired by the Three Things Challenge Prompts: Venus, ocean, frozen

Samuel’s Silence~#ttc #shortfiction #themagicshop



There were easily already close to a hundred people at Schaefer’s funeral home when local priest, the reverend Jacobs finally showed up at the seven o’clock service. He stopped by the statue of St. Paul to strengthen his composure for what he was about to face. A crowd like this was to be expected for this particular evening. Anytime someone was laid out here that was a resident of the neighborhood-the turnout of people was always rather large. But, tonight the amount of people who showed up was epic. The reason being for this was that lying in the casket at tonight’s service was fourteen year old, Samuel Carver. Four days previous, Samuel was walking home from one of favorite after school activities. A car sped by spraying a nearby crowd of boys with bullets. Two of them hit Samuel, killing him instantly. One slug went straight through his neck, severing his internal jugular. The second shot went straight through a case that Samuel was holding under his arm.

Reverend Jacobs made his way through the crowd, stopping along the way among various mourners to give comfort. Samuel had a big family and he was very liked among the faculty at his school. He was an honor student who many varied interests. He worked hard at everything he took on and had a smile that warmed up any room. He had dreams of someday piloting a shuttle into space. A pointless death of a bright kid who just happened to be walking through some random violence at the worst possible time. The dreams of Samuel being an astronaut grounded on a blood soaked sidewalk.

The casket was open. Reverend Jacobs finally got up next to Samuel to say final prayers and a goodbye. He felt his eyes begin to tear up as he looked inside.

Laying next to Samuel, was another thing that he had decided to take on to learn and he immediately fallen in love with. It had been the one thing that was in that case on that tragic day. A violin that he had played with the utmost passion. When other boys were out cheapening their lives, Samuel was home practicing until every note of any song was mastered. Reverend Jacob’s Sunday services often had Samuel play with the accompanying organist to a packed church. The violin now laid there, its front surface now gaping with a splintered opening. A freshly made bullet hole was now a part of its body, ending its sound and the innocent musician behind it.

This story was inspired by the Three Things Challenge prompts: priest, violin, statue.

Take this Day ~#rhyme #self-esteem #themagicshop


Morning glory has made it here,

Another chance to face your fears

Pull back the sheets to leave your bed,

Give a yawn to wake the dead

Stomp your feet upon the ground,

Wake your body with thunderous sound

Stand up tall and breathe in the air,

Grab a brush to go fix your hair

Find a mirror to check your face,

Make sure your smile is in its place

Check your heart and love its beat,

Then go find shoes for your feet

Your almost ready to conquer the day

To get through each hour in any way

Your self-worth is a state of mind,

Remind yourself that your one of a kind

It’s time to leave to go it alone,

Just don’t forget to grab your phone

You’re ready now time to begin,

Tomorrow will come and you’ll do all this again

Drizzled Colors~#AugustWriting #shortfiction #childhood #themagicshop


There was only one room left for Amanda Hearns, licensed Realtor to inspect before she would list this house on the market. That room would be the upstairs bedroom that she had grown up in.  This day for had been planned for months now, ever since her Dad passed away last April.   The house was just an empty shell now, awaiting its next set of owners. Her Dad was the last resident to live here out of the eight members  that made up the Hearns family.  It was up to Amanda (the youngest of the clan) to make sure that this childhood home of hers would be ready to show to any potential buyers. She wasn’t sure how she would handle today’s visit.  Surprisingly, Amanda was quite serene and detached from all the emotional baggage one might have to say Goodbye to such a sentimental place.  She had gone from room to room checking for cleanliness or minor maintenance that needed to be addressed-cool as a cucumber.  Although each room resonated a specific warm memory from Amanda’s youth, she stayed focused on the business at hand.   They were some truly special times of innocence and warmth in this house but now it was simply just a piece of property to sell to the highest bidder.  This is  what it had to be to her today-strictly business.

She walked up the creaking steps,   just as they’ve done for the majority of her life and stopped at the top.   The bedroom she shared with her two older sisters,   Allison and Gabrielle was the first room on the right.   It was directly across from her folk’s old bedroom.   This proved to be a convenient location numerous times for her Dad,  who often would have to charge into his girl’s room to break up whatever shenanigans his two older daughter’s  perpetrated.

Amanda opened the door to the room and stepped inside.   It was empty now.   The bunk beds her sisters slept in were long gone along with any posters of their current favorite boy band.   She thought that the walls needed some light patchwork. The hardwood floors were in good shape due to the fact that the room had been covered up in wall to wall peach shag carpeting.   She opened and closed the window,  making sure it wouldn’t stick for the open house she was conducting on Sunday.   Satisfied that the room looked about as good as it was going to get for an older home, she proceeded to check the inside of the closet.  It too was empty like the rest of the room.   She was getting ready to turn off the closet light when she noticed something bright laying on the floor against the left wall.   She walked over and knelt down to get a closer look.  In the corner on the floor, were some drops of dried paint. Assorted drizzled colors that included some reds, pinks and a few specks of yellow.   She ran her fingers across the floor, knowing the paint was dry but wanting to visit its origin again.

She sat down on the floor as a rush of emotions came over her.   Her thoughts race back to a day when this paint was fresh.  She was ten years old and felt left out and alone in a crowded room of giant older sisters. She would pout and show to her parents the genuine frustration of a child who had nowhere to go that she could call her own. One rainy Sunday,  Her Dad had taken her into this same closet  with some brushes and different jars of paint.  He then proclaimed to her that “from here on out, this wall of the closet was hers to do anything she wanted with it”.  For the next few hours, they then proceeded to paint whatever Amanda’s imagination could dream up.  There were unicorns in cars riding down a street made of grape jelly.  Birds wearing sneakers flying down to meet green elephants with yellow spots.  This wall became Amanda’s place to escape whenever she wanted her very own kingdom to live in.

The kingdom eventually got painted over  when Amanda turned seventeen.  Teenage years led to different interests replacing colorful fantasy animals. Today, it was just a wall that was attached to another wall that was going to belong to someone else.

Then it happened.  Professional and cool Amanda Hearns pressed her back against another wall of the closet and wept uncontrollably.  The tears flowed relentlessly down her cheek and spotted her navy blue blazer.

She thought of her father,  the strongest man she’s ever known in her life. How he sat next to her in this very same closet getting paint on his pants, creating a castle for his little girl  to live in made entirely of ice cream.  How he secretly heard  his youngest daughter’s pleas for any kind of identity that would separate her from her sisters. Amanda continued to cry in this hollow closet. She weeps, missing the days  when a giant of a man took a small piece of sheet rock and made it  the most wonderous place on earth.

Agenda~#poetry #sadness #themagicshop


Sadness doesn’t notice

A crisp cool wind softly blowing on your face

The heart of the sun inflames your spirit

These sights are blurred in a graying focus

Sadness doesn’t care

A friendly smile slides off your skin

Your beating heart gets overlooked

Acts to enlighten get covered by a darkened curtain

Sadness keeps moving

Unstoppable days flip down

People leave the race

Tears become common for these unexpected norms

Sadness sticks around

It waits to yell surprise at you when you wake up

The possibilities are unfortunately endless

Be patient in moving, the unwanted can wait

Sadness is scoring you

Your tenacity is what’s being judged

This obstacle race always awaits you

Accept the feeling and run the course to the end

Distance~#poetry #lostlove #themagicshop


Someday he’ll know it

The taste of her lips brushed on his own

Her warming laugh that he’s only read online

To finally gaze into those enchanted eyes that just her selfie has revealed


Someday she’ll know it

His stare inviting in her in for a long overdue kiss, the one that he typed in a promise

The strong embrace from him that she’s dreamt about at night in a blue light glow

To hear his texts of comfort enhanced through the whispers of his voice


Miles away yet close as a shadow

The cruelty of logistics torments them

An unjust time for this connection

Hollow hearts that now to speak to each other in digital passion


This unattainable angel that completes him is always there

This distant warrior continues to bring her peace in prose

They have merely a screen and a yearning  for now

Someday they’ll meet each other and fall in love all over again

Fighting for a Forever~#AugustWriting #shortfiction #freewill #themagicshop


There is a door that exists for all of us.

A flow of endless possibilities and choices go through its opening.

We are bound by our mortality to never see its existence or understand its full potential.

But we still feel its presence within the limits of our everyday lives.

Its power is overwhelming and a miracle to be blessed with.

However, Our mortal darkness wants superiority in closing this door.

Its ravenous hunger grows within us and it wants only its wishes to be obeyed.

This constant struggle between the depths of apathy and the will to decide wisely struggle throughout our days.

A battle for conscience within the fight for a forever.

This door of freewill must always remain open until the end of our existence.

August Writing Prompt- Fighting for a Forever-Day 22/31

Become~#poetry #lostlove #themagicshop


So this is what it’s become

A charade of contentment

Passionless facade

His heart frozen from isolation

A realization now torments him

This love he gave belongs elsewhere

Sleepless nights, days of numbness

A life without living

What mattered is what she believed

No escape without casualties

Be silent to the cracks in the foundation

Sacrifice is the truest gift to give to someone who loves you

This silent vote is his to make

Bury the wants

Stay in neutral

Accept this stopped clock

Follow the script

Paint the smile

That’s his trick now

Fool her world

So this is what it’s become for him

Easy street~#AugustWriting #rhyme #themagicshop


He had no job and he had no career, He spent his last dollar and now he was here.

The last ball had dropped and he gave out a scream, His numbers were picked as if in a dream.

Easy street had arrived for this luckiest of guys, Why couldn’t it be me I’ll never know why.

It’s a place with no bills and no outstanding debt, this was his new home because of a bet.

A good life for him was finally here, then he dumped his whole family the one that was dear.

So he lived all alone in this decadent life, never wanting old friends or even his wife.

I never may live that life that he’s won, But I’d rather be liked by the people I love.

I’d rather be happy with a life of hard work,  instead of in misery like that selfish mean jerk.

August Writing Prompt- Easy Street-Day 21/31