Karma’s Chat~#AugustWriting #poetry #themagicshop

7

Another morning and another list

Check the names, dream the traps

Such fulfillment from my work

Let’s start easy with the adulterer

He left his wife for this young flavor

I’ll lay the new model with his neighbor

Bedroom doorway, front row center

A warranted sight for this cheat

Up on deck, a greedy sloth

Corporate head, stolen wealth

Laborers cut, pensions vanished

They stretch a dime, He burns a Benjamin

I’ll place a call and end it all

Uncle Sam should visit this neglectful evader

More names pop up everyday

Endless lessons to be taught

Treat people wrong, I need my job

My quest for comeuppance is such a joy…

August Writing Prompt-Karma’s quest for comeuppance-Day 14/31

Coffee Curfews~#AugustWriting #Rhyme #themagicshop

3

Everyone knows them and they’re always around

Those strange acting creatures aptly named the Run-downs

They always act slowly as if in a malaise

They cry that their tired throughout the whole day

You see them lethargic throughout your workplace

They shop at your malls shuffling at a snail’s pace

To get them awake they drink all things caffeine

But consuming too much can make them silly and mean

Keep an eye on them and watch their java intake

A coffee curfew is one you should make

August Writing Prompt- Coffee Curfews-Day 13/31

Peachy Kisses~#shortfiction #AugustWriting #themagicshop

4

IMG_20180811_080038.jpg“Oh, THAT one is definitely going to be in the book”   she thought to herself in the cab as it sped away from the Capital Hotel in lower Manhattan.   Sapphire Jackson already had a name for the inevitable book that she was going to write.  “Strange stories from a normal woman”  would be the working title,  and it was about as accurate of a title it could be in her mind.  To her, this was just a job -period.   You left your morality at home when you put on the wig and glitter to head out to your next gig.   It had been about three years since she started this profession and was planning to call it quits by next year.   By that time,  she’ll have enough money to head back to school and finish her degree.   Thats what started this current “career” in the first place, that basic overall financial need to survive in this world by any means necessary.   She leaned her head back and rested it on top of the cab’s back seat and thought about the guy she had just finished with back at the hotel.   All of her clients had their different quirks and habits.   Some wanted to just get right to the sex with no talking whatsoever.  Others actually just wanted to chat with her for fifty minutes saving the last ten for actual intercourse.   None of it really mattered.   She always got the cash up front and from that point on she was there to do whatever to please them, the paying customer.   She had her share of weirdos too,  just like her fellow associates in the business had as well.   These clients were going to be the ones that would be later introduced to the literary world one day.   There was the guy who wanted to be called only by the number “88” for some reason throughout their entire session.  Then there was “Mr. Hoppy”.  This was her nickname for the guy who wanted to do everything dressed in a head to toe Frog’s costume.  It was some damn crazy things, but as long as their cash was good their requests  could get as freaky as they wanted for sixty minutes.  She had two basics rules for all of her transactions-No drugs and no bondage.  She wasn’t into either one of those scenes,  ever.   The one she had earlier tonight definitely fell into the category of  “different”.   About ninety minutes ago, She was greeted at the room’s door by a short, clean well dressed man in a three-piece suit.   He was polite to her when he opened the door and smiled when he handed over the stack of hundred-dollar bills.   She started to tell him the list of her specialities and he interrupted her halfway through the second item.   He told her that what he wanted was nothing like any of the things that she (or any other people in her industry) was known for doing.   He then told hold to go sit down in the lounge chair, the one in the corner of the hotel room.   She agreed and carefully sauntered over to sit down.  The man then  walked over to her and handed her a large brown paper shopping bag.  He went back over to the bed,  sat on the end of it and told her to open the bag.  Sapphire opened the bulky bag and saw that there was about eight to twenty  fresh picked peaches in there. The aroma was sweet and almost, enriching to her senses.  She looked up at the man who was still completely clothed and giving off what seemed to be an almost innocent, warm grin.  He then told her exactly what he wanted her to do with each individual peach and she agreed.   For the next sixty minutes,  Sapphire took out each individual peach and simply gave it a slight kiss on its skin.  She didn’t take a bite from any of them or even use tongue in the kiss.  They were just slight pecks from her lips and nothing more.  She asked “Joe” (he told her his apparent name by the third peach that she had taken out) if he wanted her to do more intimate things with the peaches.  Perhaps, she could strip and rub one along the top of her entire naked body.  He quietly replied “no” and told her to continue doing it exactly as he had asked.  They was very little conversation from him and when the hour was up,  she put all the peaches (15 in all)carefully back in the bag.  He then softly took her hand and walked her to the door to leave.  He thanked her for a “lovely evening” and then said good night.  He never took a stitch of clothing off,  nor did he unzip his fly to expose anything.  He sat there like a perfect gentleman, fingers clasped together on his lap and enjoyed watching her give a kiss to each and every peach.

Her cab now was stuck in bumper to bumper midtown Saturday night traffic.  Sapphire didn’t mind.  It had already been an easy night for her.  She was looking forward to heading home, taking off all things connected with “Sapphire” and becoming Sarah Gibson again.  It would be a night of Netflix, her favorite cozy socks and a bowl of Rocky-Road ice cream.  These were the things that made her happy and really, that whats should matter at the end of the day.  Her motto in life was always “Whatever makes you smile, that doesn’t kill ya”.  She thought this once again as the cab started to finally move forward.  If watching some lady kiss a bunch of fruit was the thing that made you smile with no harm being done-Then she’ll gladly pucker up and smooch away a whole orchard of peaches. That is, if you pay “Sapphire” in advance for the service.

August writing prompt Peachy Kisses-day 11/31

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Natures Reflection~#poetry #AugustWriting #themagicshop

4

Branches dig deep

Actions take root

Grass spreads out

Families grow up

Birds soar higher

Youth seeks adventure

Flow of a river

Stream of emotions

A limitless sky

Our endless dreams

Layers of earth

Levels of reasoning

Force of a wind

Passion blows you away

Nature’s reflection

Humanities perception

August Writing Prompt-Natures reflection–Day 10/31

Amethyst Tears~#poetry #AugustWriting #themagicshop

6

Shattered night

A siren’s scream

The street awakens

Death has shopped in this neighborhood gain

For thirty years he pleased the unardorned

An immigrant’s gift to this new world

His passion to decorate people

A monster’s touch ends his dream

Questions are asked, answered by stares

Witnesses immune to the act

Life has become this, a weekly sacrifice

This evening- the jeweler was chosen.

Sapphires of sadness and Amethyst tears now lie on cement

The beauty of his craft soaked in his blood

And the purest jewel of them all will shine no more

August Writing Prompt- Amethyst Tears-Day 8/31

One Lonely Lantern~#creativewriting #AugustWriting #themagicshop

0

She knew that what she was about to do was not right throughout that entire drive there.  Kathryn Walsh (Katie to her friends) knew deep down in her soul,  even now after almost finishing this forty-five minute trip that this was just the wrong thing to do.

But, Kathryn was dead on the inside and she had to do something.   The man she had married was gone.    He had been gradually replaced by a cold cement block of a person over a span of four years.   In the beginning,  she would tingle at his touch.   Their eyes would burn into each other with an unspoken need to please each other.  They would often make love throughout the weekend, always satisfying each others requests. Those days were now long gone.  Both of them were now merely strangers occupying the same house.   Life had given them both just too many balls to juggle and their passion for each other became non-existent. Kathryn dreamed for that original man who tingled her in the beginning to return but, he never did. This “new guy”   had accepted the comfort of his wife just breathing and in the same room, Kathryn wanted-needed  more.  Still, that didn’t justify what she was about to do tonight.   A married woman should be patient and supportive through all of the rough spots and smooth sailings.   At least,  this is what Kathryn felt  throughout most of her  life.  Even when her own parents separated when she was sixteen,  Kathryn blamed her Mom.   Now,  she thinks back and regrets those actions.   It could have been the overwhelming well of total loneliness that her Mom was stuck in that she just didn’t understand as a teenager.  She understood it now, today.  That constant place that only you can understand.   The isolation you feel when no one comforts or listens to you, even when your partner is a few feet away. The constant thoughts of being anywhere else but in the skin of  yourself that crept into Kathryn’s  thoughts daily.  A dark place of solitude was forced on her and she had to break out, at any possible cost.

The rain started to let up just as Kathryn’s car approached the hotel. Greg had told her it was remote and it looked clean. He was right on both counts she thought and pulled into the hotel’s entrance. She parked her car in one of the furthest spots away from the main office.

“Just in case, who know.. someone might see me here …at a hotel 35 miles away from my house”   Kathryn thought with just a tinge of guilt starting to surface.   She loved her husband on some level, she didn’t doubt that for a second.   But, she needed to be wanted and complete again-period.   That’s what she had to keep reiterating to herself.

Just then, a grey Honda accord pulled into the lot.   Kathryn recognized it as Greg’s car. He had arrived,   just like he said he would.   The Accord pulled into a spot and stopped. Greg got out and smiled at her and  Just like that, as she had felt years before Kathryn tingled again.

They both proceeded into the main office to check in for the night.   The manager handed Greg the key to room one.

Thoughts of how wrong she was started again in Kathryn’s head.   She also knew that she had never felt so broken and lost in her life.  She wanted to be loved again for just one night.   Her heart started to beat fast in romantic anticipation for the first time in years.   To have this unexplainable feeling once again in her life,   simply overshadowed all the possible consequences.

She smiled at Greg.  He smiled back and opened the door for both of them to enter room one of “The Lonely Lantern” hotel.

August Writing Prompt-One lonely lantern-Day 7/31

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Jupiter Glow~#poetry #AugustWriting #themagicshop

5

This box lights up our darkened room once again.

My brothers flank me,  all of us uniformed in pajamas.

Three of us sitting in the then acceptably called “Indian style”.

A smell of freshly popped corn fills the air and soon quiets my hunger.

The clicking of plastic turning stops at our destination.

My mom sits on the couch,  a steady gaze of protection on all three of us.

I feel my shoulder get a  punch of love by my middle brother.

He soon pays the price with a stern warning.

It’s almost time to leave this place.

It begins,  our transportation has arrived.

Childhood gets propelled into new dimensions.

Suddenly our living room is engulfed in stars.

My eyes widen with anticipation for an unknown tale.

A dangerous planet or a mysterious alien.

Then I see my ship, spinning me away from sixties suburbia.

My dreams are alive in that Jupiter Glow.

 

August Writing Prompt- Jupiter Glow-Day 6/31

Nantucket Breeze~#poetry #AugustWriting #love #themagicshop

3

The sand remained the same.

Years had passed between these days.

He had returned here to go back.

She was always here at this place.

Today would be no different.

He once was a teen rebel without a clue.

Forced into family vacations.

It was beach of boredom until he saw her.

Gawky and shy with eyes that amazed him.

She too felt like a paternal prisoner.

They were awoken by new feelings.

Restless spirits calmed by the comfort of each other’s presence

The details of that summer would be burned into his psyche.

He stands here now, back in that time for just a moment.

The oceans still roaring their song even now.

A whisper of wind engulfs him, the way it did once before.

She silently approaches him from behind and takes his hand.

Older eyes still excite him.

That day has returned along with their passion.

The Nantucket breeze surrounds them as their love is discovered once again.

August Writing Prompt- Nantucket Breeze-Day 4/31

Mysterious Mounds~#shortfiction #AugustWriting #Horror #themagicshop

3

Deborah walked into her backyard holding Bootsie, yet another victim laying on the road near her house. It was early in the morning, around eight am when Deborah was taking her usual morning stroll around down towards ‘MILLERS MARKET’ for coffee and town gossip. She was halfway there when she first spotted the hairy pile on the side of the road. It was Bootsie, the elder cat that belonged to the Sanderson family over on Birchtree Avenue. Deborah recognized its fur. She stopped in front of the carcass and knelt down. Bootsie’s eyes were open but, stuck in an endless stare.

“Oh lord, not another one”. Deborah thought to herself sadly. Her trip to get coffee would have to be postponed this morning. She already had on gloves due to these chilly New England Fall days. She reached out and scooped up all the freshly disemboweled pieces of Bootsie.

Twenty minutes later, she was now standing in her backyard holding a shovel. Bootsie lay next to her waiting for its final resting place. Deborah started to dig. Her arthritis was starting to really get to bother her lately, but she rarely complained. She thought of her late husband, Earl and his words every time she wanted to cry out loud to him about the pain.

“Ain’t nothing wrong with you, Debbie. You just lazy AND stupid. It’s all in that fat head of yours”. That usually was followed up with a nerve shattering slap on her ass or whatever else was in his reach.

She dug a hole about three feet down and pushed the remains of Bootsie into it with her left foot. He was gone and it was time to cover him up. The dirt filled up the hole rather quickly, leaving a small mound rising above the earth’s surface.

Deborah put the final scoop of dirt on top of Bootsie’s grave and stood up to hear her back creak from age. She let out a sigh and looked around her entire yard. It was a big piece of property going all the way back to a small landlocked piece of woods. This was the place that Earl insisted they purchase, even though it was states away from her loving family and true home. But, that was years ago. Deborah grew to like it here, even created a blessed life here. She loved her backyard now more than ever. Every since she made these twelve mysterious mounds scattered throughout the property. There was always some animal out there, dead from the impact of some four-wheeled monster. She couldn’t let those poor things just lay there and rot without a proper burial. Besides, with her husband gone and her now retired, this occupied all the free time she had on her hands. Why not put it good use? She leaned her chin on the shovel and said a short prayer for Bootsie. Deborah did this for all the things she buried in her backyard except, for the one furthest in the back near the shed. That one Deborah pushed the body in the hole, quickly covered it up and laughed instead of prayed. She remembers that day all over again now and finds herself smiling again as she turns to look back at that mound-the largest one in her backyard. It was the biggest hole that Deborah dug, took her over an hour to dig it.

That was to be expected though. After all, Earl was a big guy. Deborah put away her shovel and went into her house and fixed her morning breakfast, knowing she had done a good thing in burying Bootsie.

August Writing Prompt-Mysterious mounds-Day 3/31

August Writing Prompts