The sound called her
She knew it was him again
A chime ignites her lust
His message breaks her dam
The vibration awakens him
She wanted him now
Titlation from a text
Her response solidified him
A rendezvous accepted
Their fingers dance along each other’s skin
The trembling surge tastes their lips
Pushed to paradise
Gratification beyond description
A mutual ectasy pausing life
They satisfied each other’s callings
Stimulus induced seduction
Pavlov redefined for today
September Writing Prompt- Concupiscient Callings – Day 30/30
The outfield of the Trenton Titans slammed Sammie Dees into the lockers with the full combined force of their body’s weight. Sammie’s eyes were still soaked with champagne and he was unable to see this impending assault from his teammates. This act of aggressive behavior however, was well justified. The Titans had just beaten the Duluth Dynamo for a chance to head to the national world series. Right fielder Oscar Rayas dumped almost a full bottle of champagne over Sammie’s head. Desmond Perry, Sam’s friend from their minor league days, grabbed him by the waist in a brotherly fashion. Finally, left fielder Paul Sullivan smacked Sam on the back multiple times as if he were trying to dislodge something from Sam’s throat. The mood now throughout the locker room was far different from the one of complete suspense that filled Titans Stadium forty minutes earlier. It had been the bottom of the ninth inning with merely one out away from the Titans clinching the game and moving on to the series. Duluth’s notorious home run slammer, Lou Gritakas had stepped up to the plate to bat. Two strikes in and a miracle happened. Gritakas popped up the ball to short stop. Sammy easily caught it with two hands ending Duluth’s run. Sammy always habitually caught every pop-up that came his way with two hands. A leftover move from way back from his days in the little leagues.
When Sammy was twelve years old, he was given a nickname by some of his teammates. They called him “SwissCheese Dees”. This unfortunate label was given to him due to the regularity of him missing catches.
“That kid must have holes in his hands, just like a piece of Swiss cheese.”
origin of the name that was created by another player. Each missed catch by Sammy in any subsequent game merely strengthened the persona given to him. This was Sammy’s fate until he decided to change it. He started practicing religiously at home, in the park or wherever he found the space and time to catch a baseball. Sammy practiced catching to the point where he literally felt like his arms were going to fall off. Throughout all of catches he disciplined himself to always use two hands in a pop-up. No need to show off and be a superstar.
The screams in the Titan’s locker room had now escalated into epic decibels as the division trophy was brought in. Sammy stood there with his teammates, their smiles widening even more when grasping the intensity of the moment.
Sammy often thought of those days in the little league. The fates of those belligerent players that criticized and blamed Sammy for any problems the team had at the time. He never found out what happened to them but, he knew for sure none of them were standing here victorious.
None of where they were now was important any way. This present moment of pure glory is what mattered. A present where Sammy Dees wore a champagne soaked sports uniform and his days of being “Swiss cheese” were long behind him.
Three thing challenge – cheese, locker and sports uniform
I recently went to this strange little mall
Only one item per shop with no choices at all
Coleman’s cups only carried one type of grey mug
The showroom in Shagworld displayed just one green Berber rug
Larry’s Lids sold nothing but red baseball caps
Finnegan’s Pub had only one flavored drink from the tap
Sally’s socks only stocked left ones and nothing more
To make a complete pair, Right Socks R Us was on the third floor
Do you think picking out birthday cards was always so hard?
Try shopping at Hillmans which only stocks just one get well card
Now, this mall is quite silly that much is for sure
But that didn’t prevent me from opening my own store
Come down the escalator to Rainwear by Bellas
Where I will gladly show you my yellow umbrellas
September Writing prompt – Yellow umbrellas – Day 26/30
The wet day outside wants me reborn
Enclosed in metal, I feel the sweet vibrations of heavenly tears
Yesterday’s pain is now washed away
That path behind me now submerged
I linger here before stepping into its embrace
Silently listening to the symphony of a storm
Each drop making its power known
Why fear its presence?
It is my shower of sanity
A storm to quell the chaos
I anxiously stare outside into the stream
This day of encompassing grey skies has enlightened my vision
My spirit is calmed as I step out into the rain of redemption to be free
September Writing Prompt- Sweet Vibrations – Day 25/30
In the world of hair styling everyone knows this man’s name
He is simply called Hugo and cutting hair is his game
He’s known to make art out of anyone’s hair
The styles he makes happily make people stare
Hugo is picky and doesn’t just style anyone
His ego and demands exclude most everyone
The clients he picks line up down the block awaiting their turn
Most of them are rich and have money to burn
From Hollywood starlets and queens of the screen
To European royalty with Reality divas in between
Then one day someone recognized out loud
That Hugo’s haircuts were all alike in a crowd
With all of the blind hype coming from Hugo’s fame
No one had noticed that all of his looks were the same
Hugo confessed knowing only one way to chop
Making all women’s hair into identical twisty tops
September Writing Prompt – Twisty Tops – Day 23/3
John Corbett stood alone right in the center of Westfield High’s empty football field. A place that he had played on many times back when he was a student here. He was the star receiver for the school’s team back in those days, scoring multiple times against the toughest of opponents. Those days felt still like yesterday to John, instead of the actual three years that they were. Nowadays, He was just a guy in his twenties lost in his life without a purpose. He graduated from Westfield, but didn’t enroll in any colleges. John had no motivation to do so and also felt that his future path was meant to take him elsewhere. Unfortunately, he had spent the last few years trying to find a direction on that path for himself. In some deep introspection on things, John actually always felt out-of-place. When he was running down this same field to the sound of dozens of cheering admirers, it never quelled this gnawing feeling inside him that he was just not meant to be here. He always felt like a stranger in even the most comfortable settings.
Hours Earlier, John felt this overwhelming need to come back to this field. He was sound asleep back at his parent’s house when his opened his eyes up to a whisper in his room. Someone was telling him to come to the football field, now. The bedroom was empty except for John himself. A room that had become his absolute comfort zone for the majority of his life. It was his very own, unlike the large bedroom he had to share with the other boys at the foster home before being adopted by the Corbett’s. Yet, this room now felt almost creepy to him. A whisper was undeniably spoken to him in his bed. His heart raced and the urge to go the field at three in the morning was overwhelming.
So, John now stood on the fifty yard line of the football field during the darkness of a chilly Autumn night. John exhaled a frosty breath out into the silent air. He was the only one currently present on the school grounds which during the day would usually have hundreds of teens. All of this started to feel a bit ridiculous to John and he began to walk off the field. He was six steps into his pace when the light struck him. He reflexively closed his eyes and stopped in his tracks. Directly above John, an object now floated in the air. From what John could tell through now his squinting eyes, it was about the size of a large above ground swimming pool. It emitted a low hum as this sound of silver lights now warmed John in its glow.
Much to his surprise, John found himself feeling actually quite comfortable during this entire experience. In fact, he felt for the first time in his entire life complete and at peace. He outstretched his arms and waited for the light to transport him aboard a ship that he felt somehow innately familiar with. The light lifted him up off of the ground and up towards its origin. John Corbett’s last scoring drive on this field was for himself and to finally head home back to the stars.
September Writing Prompt- The sounds of silver lights – Day 22/30
When you are low
A gentle critique hits like a punch
You question your price tag
No reason to deny your pointless trip
Hundreds of people shuffle by your prison
The lives of strangers glow in your perception
You stay distant from nearby comforts
This absence of her started your slide
An invisible family ignores your words
When did your GPS get you this lost?
But, your walk must continue
It is only in your distance that you can survive
A walk forward out of your low
September Writing prompts -The Absence of Her-Day 21/31
I haven’t written for days having lost my desire
And it’s all from the results of a pesky flat tire
It happened last Sunday as I was out for a drive
I blew out a tire in keeping a chipmunk alive
All the air went out of that round, rubber thing
My passion was also deflated not wanting to write anything
This is quite a sad trap that I’ve gotten myself in
I stare at a blank screen not knowing where to begin
Let’s write some things down perhaps a thought or two
Maybe a spark with incite me to follow through
Well, look at this its the end of our chat
And I’m back to my writing all because of a flat
It happened again Stanley got himself fired
He lasted a week from the day he was hired
At all of his jobs he does this strange thing
An act that’s just sick that he enjoys in committing
Every woman he meets he eerily guesses their bra size
Then buys that same fit and wears them as ties
If you thinks that’s too weird and you simply can’t take it
He wears just these ties while being butt-naked
If he just did this at home, that in itself is quite creepy
But he does this in public as a sight that’s just freaky
He claims it’s a gag and just a diversion
Everyone else knows better, it’s a pesky perversion
September Writing Prompt- Pesky perversions Day 15/30
Rainboot colors excite the toddler
The mother embraces her daughter’s delight
Irrelevant choices to tomorrow’s teen
Then the ring sounds
Gossip creates obliviousness
This child’s moment is now gone
A muted family awaits in tears
This home now silenced in an accident’s aftermath
Then the chimes clang
God extendeded their miracle today
Their previous moment is now gone
She thinks he’s the one over drinks
Love may have arrived in a blazer
Her loneliness possibly dissipating at last
Then the buzzer annoys
His smile now reeks of a secret spouse
Her previous moment is now gone
Incoming life changes the scene
The power of progress
Our destinies controlled by a call
Then this moment is gone
Welcome strangers to Milmonyville
A quaint little town filled with goodwill
I’m the mayor here re-elected once more
Have lunch in our diner and shop in our stores
Tourists drive through here from all different places
Many are new even I don’t know their faces
Those people who stopped here are now paying the price
We made them our residents for the rest of their lives
Your just passing through on your way to vacation?
Not anymore this is your last destination
September Writing: The mystery of Milmonyville Day 13/30
The presence of three overworked, perspiring police officers still couldn’t mask the delicious smell of fresh goods filling the inside of DeCorinos bakery. It was early Monday morning and a call came in to the precinct that the bakery had been burglarized. Lieutant Chonski of Vice had just arrived and was getting the details from patrolman Jackson who was the first uniform on the scene.
According to Jackson, Bakery owner Angelo DeCorino arrived at five am to open up for business. He had done this every morning for the last twenty-three years since he took over the business from his father. He was alarmed to see that the front door of the shop was left slightly open. Cautiously, he entered the premises to find that some important pieces of store merchandise were missing. A gold cappuccino machine, his cash register and a newly installed computer system that cost Mr. DeCorino quite a penny. He then ventured into the back of the store where he did most of his baking and unfourtanely discovered that his safe was wide open and completely empty. Angelo had told Officer Jackson that he had precisely eight thousand dollars in petty cash enclosed in the safe as of yesterday.
This was the third retail establishment in the area that had been robbed in the same fashion over a span of three months. At each of the previous crimes, the culprit (or culprits) had always left behind a unique calling card. A symbol of their victorious theft and the elusiveness that they continued to practice. Lieutenant Chonski now knew what particular type of evidence to look for at any of future cases that would might lead to a suspect to be arrested. He looked across the bakery, around the officers who were taking statements and conducting crowd control. The shelves were partially ready for business that day with loaves of Italian bread, fresh cakes and assorted pastries. Chonski walked into the back storeroom, his eyes scanning all around the area for that one clue that would confirm a suspicion he already had. Nothing was detected. He thought that maybe he was wrong. Perhaps this was the work of a different assailant.
He walked back out unto the sales floor and stopped to do one more view of the crime scene. A display of pastries in one of the enclosed glass cabinets drew his attention. From a distance, it looked as if everything inside the case was a piled mess. Every other case in the bakery had all the cakes and pastries lined up in a neat and organized fashion.
Once Chonski got a closer look at the pile of pastries, It didn’t take long for him to deduce that this was indeed the same thieves who had committed the previous crimes. Inside the cabinet were assorted glazed donuts and creme filled Italian cannolis. Chonski was surprised to see that approximately eleven of the cannolis had provocatively been shoved through the holes of eleven donuts. Each combination leading one to think that this was some type of symbolism for sexual intercourse. At all three previous crime scenes, Sneaky and Cheeky (a name given to them by the press) had left behind some type of sexual innuendo using merchandise from that particular stores inventory. Lieutenant Chonski sighed a breath of resignation and smirked. It had just humorously struck him that these are probably the first set of donuts in the history of law enforcement that any officer would pass on eating.
September Writing Prompt- Sneaky and Cheeky- Day 12/30
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