Friday, November 29, 2019

NaNoWriMo 2019

Rebellious NaNoWriMo month concluded with success. The hype was not as intense as when I write new material, but the goal was to get some revising done. That was achieved.

Sunday, November 24, 2019


Milk Wood

"No," shouted the elderly lady, forking up a luscious pumpkin pie.
"Yes," replied another.
The living-room of the Club was packed. All the ladies talked at the same time, tea cups held in a precarious fashion.
Suddenly, the door bell rang...
The rest of that night was spent at the police station where an important decision was made.
No more meetings after a night out at the local pub. The neighbors were such twats.
That was actually the word they wrote on a piece of paper, when they got back, and glued it to the neighbors' door, chuckling like teenagers.

Sunday, November 17, 2019

Who Cares?

Whispering Wind

The chair faced a big wooden crate. Fragile. Fragile could mean a lot of things, he thought. Glass. He sat down and leaned forward. Rare wine. He sat back. Do not open it, they said. He stared at it and pondered. He wanted to open it... Porcelain. He tilted his head and tried to read the label. It was wet and blurry. "Screw them..." He stood up and opened the crate. It was filled with ideas, special ones too. The crate was filled with books, something extremely rare those days. He sneaked one out and closed the crate again, smiling.

Sunday, November 10, 2019



Boom, and the moon was gone. No one believed it could happen, but it did. The so-called brotherly neighbors from next door, meaning the next galaxy or wherever they came from, threatened to do it and everyone laughed, not a care in the world. Then, it happened. Those damn little green jerks. Ever since they moved in with all that scientific progress, new ideas, new concepts, new gadgets, life was a lot more complicated. That resonant boom was only outmatched by the roaring sound of space ships exploding as they left Earth. Oops! "Should we prepare for war?" someone asked.

Sunday, November 3, 2019


Milk Wood

The regulars at the bar took sneaky glances at the blonde woman who had just walked in. Her long hair swayed as she conquered the room, an aura of certainty about her. The tight turtleneck made her perky breasts tease risky thoughts into everyone's minds. She pulled up a chair and sat down, facing the room, her feet up on the table in front of her. Wasn't it such a pleasant little coincidence that the chair had a heart on its back? She smiled. Everyone smiled back. A few waved with enthusiasm. No one knew she had the chainsaw ready.