Author: Michael

Husband, dad,(ex)programmer, comic collector and proud Yorkshireman. I have no idea why im here or why im writing but i rather enjoy it. no great fan of punctuation;

What Teddy saw. 5.

The one with the scratching

Part 1 Part2  Part 3 Part 4

Just remember, when you think nobody is watching and you do those things you ought to be ashamed of me and my kind are around and we do not have the luxury of forgetting.

In fact, we have surprisingly long memories.

I know a Steiff bear called Gerald who I met at the park a while back who is to this day still traumatised by what he saw someone do with a lukewarm cheese fondu and a packet of cocktail sausages back in the seventies.  He says things were different back then and were willing to try all sorts but the dead look in his eyes tells me that he has seen too much.

So next time you stand in front of the fridge in the middle of the night scratching yourself and then eating cold mashed potatoes with your hands think again.  I would claw your face off if I could but alas I have to suffer watching you handle raw poultry in an unhygienic fashion and then wonder why the toilets are always blocked and the kids aren’t at school because they gambled on a fart.

Seriously, just think okay – we all have to live in the same house and it wouldn’t hurt you to think of others now and then.

 

 

One Lonely Lantern – Room 101

>>>Journal_Entry_241Nantucket_Breeze_06June/2032>>>Henderson,Gill>>>_.

These things tend to be short pieces that may or may not be the beginning of something else. Originally they were 101 words but this month I will allow myself more. M’s prompt  was ‘One Lonely Lantern’

Robbie loved the hours just before sunrise the most, when the world is still and calm and the sun just the feintest of glows on the horizon.  It was a great time to be alone with your thoughts and to think about the day ahead, and it was also the best time to catch fish.

 As he looked out across the dark waters the line gave the briefest of tremors and he held his breath and leaned forward for the rod.  There was the buzz of a mosquito and a far off siren and though he waited no bite came.  It had been strangely quiet all night though and he was just about ready to head home.

 Turning from the water he lifted his kerosene lantern to look around for his Dad.  The lamp shot shadows across the narrow path that lead to their spot, the tall spruce trees towering above them and the light dancing on the dew that covered much of the thick undergrowth.

 “Hey Dad you there?” He shouted, his voice echoing through the darkness and across the pond.  No response came. 

 He stood to his feet and shouted again.  “Dad, come on let’s go.”  When he did not answer again he began to worry.  Since mom had disappeared on them when he was eight he always seemed so far away.  Over the years he had become more and more insulated and he seldom left the house since once Robbie had left for college.  Whilst he did what he could he always felt guilty that he couldn’t spend more time with the old man. 

 “Oh come on” Robbie mumbled to himself putting down the lamp and leaning forward to pick up the rod and pack it away but as he placed his hand on the grip the line raced away beneath the water.

 “Shit” he exclaimed lifting it up, wedging in in at his hip and grabbing hold of the reel.  Whatever this was it was big.

 “Hey dad, come on I could do with a hand” he shouted into the darkness, but no answer came back. 

 Robbie pulled back on the rod and in a quick forward and back motion took up the slack and began to reel in whatever had taken the bait.  

“Dad I got one” he shouted again.  There was a rustle in the undergrowth and he turned around briefly but seeing nothing again faced the water and continued to fight to land his prey.

 He got to his feet and took a step closer to the waters edge, the cold dark waters lapping at the toes of his waders.  Whatever it was wasn’t in the mood to give up that was for sure.

 He turned around again hearing a snap of twigs somewhere in the darkness behind him.  “Dad, seriously come on I could do with a hand.  Grab the keep net will you I almost have it.”

 There was no response and he took another step into the water.  It was close now, he could feel it fighting. One more cautious step took him up to his thighs, the rocks slippery beneath his feet, and he pulled back hard on the rod in an attempt to pull the fish from the water.

 With a sudden ‘ping’ the line snapped and he cascaded backwards into the cold dark waters, catching his breath cursing. 

 “Shit” he barked feeling the water spill inside his waders.  Frantically he scrambled to regain his feet but before he could do so he felt something wrap itself around his feet.

 “Dad” he screamed struggling to turn to the shore, the silhouette of his father now visible on the bank.  “Dad come on help me “ he shouted panicked.  “My feet are caught in something.

 His father never responded, simply standing and watching.

 “Dad please I nee…” he started but was unable to finish his sentence as he was dragged forcefully below the surface.  Heart racing he kicked out frantically and for a moment felt freed and gasping surfaced to see his father still stood at the waterside, the kerosene lamp now in his hand and his face quite still and calm. 

 He tried to shout but felt a force upon his shoulders drag him back under the surface and eyes wide he felt the cold waters begin to suffocate him.  He struggled and lashed out but each time he became less and less able to resist until eventually, with no strength left in him, he surrendered to the cold darkness of the lake. 

With his thoughts quickly escaping him and a fog shrouding his mind he looked out one last through the water towards the river bank to where his father still stood, the old lamp in his hands.  This time though he was not alone, and stood with him dressed all in white was a woman, a woman he recognised still. 

Slowly she walked towards where he lay beneath the water, her eyes hollow and the skin on her face pale and hanging from her bones.  It was his mother.  She had come to take him home…

Check this out. It’s frightfully grown up.

Well it was when I set out…

sun slowly fading

first signs of autumn changes

dog shit ‘neath the leaves

 

Okay so I started trying to do a proper one but mostly I am then just drawn to images of leaves on the ground and we all know what leaves on the ground means right? No?  It means dog shit hidden by leaves.  You cant go running through the leaves and kicking them playfully anymore for fear of whipping up a Doberman turd into the face of a passing child or being late for school because you have to head back home to clean the crap out of the kids school shoes.

No, I am not ready for Autumn yet because it will inevitably make me grumpy and complain about dog owners a lot and it has so been a pleasant summer.

Crow Black and Cardinal Red Kindra M. Austin & Matthew Eayre —

A reblog for you poetry lovers out there

Originally posted on A Global Divergent Literary Collective: Of explosive mourning is born the night rising low in my rib cage Obsidian heart cooling in its crate, cold enough to freeze the devils in hell Usurp the king’s wings, crow black and cruel, This is my coronation day Raucous laughter celebrates the coming dawn falling…

via Crow Black and Cardinal Red Kindra M. Austin & Matthew Eayre —

Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday: SAD and WRITE

Another Tuesday challenge!

Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday

This week the challenge was to use synonyms for SAD and WRITE.  I used MELONCHOLY and SCRIBBLES.

 

My melancholy.

darkness scribbles on my soul

graffiti in blood

Pfft.  Sorry, only kidding

maybe a rude limerick?

https://colleenchesebro.com/2018/08/21/colleens-weekly-tanka-tuesday-poetry-challenge-no-98-sad-write-synonymsonly/

Nantucket Breeze – Room 101

>>>Journal_Entry_241Nantucket_Breeze_06June/2032>>>Henderson,Gill>>>_.

These things tend to be short pieces that may or may not be the beginning of something else. Originally they were 101 words but this month I will allow myself more. M’s prompt was ‘Nantucket Breeze’

>>>Journal_Entry_241</>Nantucket_Breeze_06June/2032>>>Henderson,Gill>>>_.

I remember the first time she came through you know.  It was pretty unforgettable given what happened afterwards. 

 It was a day like any other when it started, we set out past the breakers and beyond the nets and left the bay patrolling the western shores for any vessels trying to get through.   Everything was so still, like nothing we had ever seen – really creepy I tell you.  I remember ‘cap hovering about three metres above what should have been a

 Things had been pretty quiet since the mines had been laid so mostly it was a pretty easy gig.  There were still some desperate or stupid enough to try and it was just a case of standing our ground until they turned back.  That or sinking them.

 The ‘Nantucket Breeze’ was different though.  When we found them they were all pretty shook up and making absolutely no sense at all waving and clamouring from the deck.  Carlisle fired a shot across the bows, he loves to shoot stuff for no reason, but they didn’t seem to care at all and when we managed to raise them on one of the old frequencies the Captain insisted they were registered out of San Diego and a Californian state vessel.

 Obviously we checked the subnet but there was nothing with that registration in the last forty years and Given that California had been independent for twenty years the boss was having none of it.

 The Captain kept going on about a storm and that they’d been blown off course and were coming back up from Mexico but you know the ‘Cap, he’s heard it all before and everyone knows that there’s no way one of our ships would have survived in Mexican waters.

 Anyway, you know how it ended – the footage of it got out onto the subnet and someone recognised the vessel and the crew from some old photos and before we knew it the rift was open and that’s when everything really went to shit.

 To be honest I am not sure that it made that much of a difference that we sunk her, but what do I know eh…

 >>>END<<< _ _ _ 

He’s not the son of god he’s a very naughty boy…

Offence to some incoming…

Once a charlatan, not reverential

said “I’ll tell folks god’s quite existential

and that yeah, I’m his son

had a thing with my mum

it’s sure to make cash, has potential”

 

 

 

 

 

Jupiter Glow – Room 101

Incoming voice transmission…

These things tend to be short pieces that may or may not be the beginning of something else. Originally they were 101 words but this month I will allow myself more.  M’s prompt was ‘Jupiter Glow’.

 No matter how hard they try they can never prepare you for the loneliness of space.  The fellows in the white coats test you and explore the extent to which your mind can be pushed but they really have no idea what true isolation will do to you. 

 You try to retain a degree of positivity but there comes a point when you lose all hope, and for me that point was when I flashed past Mars with my pod still accelerating.  Mars was my last hope you see, my salvation.  If anyone could have survived the Orion onslaught it was those tough bastards but with my emergency beacon out and navigation systems shot I simply sailed by into the inky black of space. 

 I doubt it mattered though because there were no signs of life on my scanners.  In fact, there had been no sign in any quadrant since I jettisoned at the battle of Ceres Outpost and whilst I had enough supplies to keep me going for a few months – assuming the hydro-recycle unit on my suit keeps functioning – I doubt that I will make it through the asteroid belt to see the glow of Jupiter.

 It’s a shame really because my god she is a sight to behold…

 

 

 

Oh how I want to watch hard bodied Mormons drink from a hosepipe after they mow my lawn – AUDIO

I don’t really, and don’t mean to cause offense but I bet they are great at yard work.

Sometime an image just runs away with me.  I fear this may be a step too far but let’s see shall we.  To be fair they could be of any religious persuasion I don’t care particularly.  They don’t even have to be religious.  Maybe they could be door to door sales folk.  Okay so that’s kinds the same thing but you know what I mean.  Anyway.

 

 

 

 

 

Diet o’clock 19th of August

You gonna eat that or can I have it?

Well I am nearing the end of another month of Whole30 and whilst the weight loss has not been as good as the first I continue to enjoy it immensely.  Well apart from last week at least.

I neglected to go shopping on Sunday for reasons I cannot recall but before I knew it I was running short of all sorts of stuff and time seemed to get away from me.  I also started a new job on the Monday so things were just pretty hectic.  I wasn’t eating badly, just cobbling things together or compromising here and there and I quite suddenly found myself thinking about food more than I had been.

Well, by Friday I was like a man possessed.  By the time I got home from work I could think of nothing but eating.  Everything.  I didn’t care what it was, I was ready to eat it.

Salsa from the belly button of a syphilitic tramp?  Yeah count me in.  Horse scrotum hot dogs in week old buns?  Yes freaking please.  Flame grilled just-about-anything from a sexual deviant’s food truck smothered in his extra sticky ‘special sauce’.  I’ll take two with some of those really really dirty fries.

Anyway I think you get the picture.

Fortunately the fridge was empty apart from some past its best garlic bread, a bottle of champagne and some Tiramasu,  Now I may have been desperate enough to wolf down a milkshake made with Bridgette Nielsen’s 54 year old breast milk but I have to draw a line somewhere – I’m not a bloody animal and that stuff I cannot abide.

Anyway, by the time I had eaten 6 chicken thighs cooked with chorizo and a packet of Mr Ben’s quite delicious spicy rice the red mist faded and as I licked the last pickings from my fingers a sense of sanity returned.

I have since been shopping and have some fabulously yummy and healthy stuff in and all planned out for the week and feel it was a valuable lesson learned about myself and what triggers me.

Bon appetit!

Mysterious Mounds – Room 101

It’s been a while since I did anything constructive on here. Let’s give it a try.

These things tend to be short pieces that may or may not be the beginning of something else. Originally they were 101 words but this month I will allow myself more. M’s prompt was ‘mysterious mounds’

Bort slammed an angry fist on the console, lights blinking blue and red as his antennae turning a deep crimson.
“Dexlar, get me a target now” he barked, “and can someone get me a sit-rep on the other advance vessels. We didn’t cross seven galaxies and spend all that time in stasis in search of a new home to fail when we are so close. There is no going back so someone needs to get this vessel online right now and we need to take down their defences.”
“All comms offline Captain, negative on the advance vessels at present. We seem to have emerged from slip stream but all signals are dark.”
Bort turned on the junior offices monitoring the display, two rows of sharp teeth bared in a `snarl. “I swear by the seven moons of Tarl your ancestors will remember my name and shit their pants if you don’t find me those vessels now!”
Dexlar swallowed nervously and punched frantically at the nav console, scanning the low band frequencies for any evidence of the advance party. The thought of his great grandchildren quivering with soiled britches was not something he liked to consider.
“Have I got a target yet” Bort yelled pacing the command deck. The large array of screens before him unusually empty. “Can someone tell me why I’m not seeing anything? Anyone?”
“Sir it looks like something is jamming all signals both inbound and outbound.” Said Dexlar.
Bort stopped his pacing and once again turned on him. “I did mention the pant shitting did I not?” he asked nostrils flaring and yellow eyes narrowed. “I very much think I was quite specific on that matter”
“Sir you did sir” Drexlar replied, his mouth dry and the scales on his neck flushing green then yellow. “I’ve dispatched team alpha to attempt external reconnaissance as all sensors remain offline and auxiliary sensors are unresponsive.”
“Patch me through shit britches” Bort demanded resuming his pacing. “Alpha come in do you copy?” He paused for a moment before receiving a response.
Drexlar tried to patch the comms through to his own station but the captain’s security protocol prevented him.
“Alpha repeat” Bort snapped, “I don’t think I heard you right.”
The purple drained from his face. “…Faecal matter? You mean shit?” he asked quizically. “What the hell is big enough to completely encase a class one destroyer Alpha, make sense damn it or I will have your….”
Drexlar stared at the Captain and then looked quickly away as he turned in his direction.
“Alpha repeat” he continued his tone now wholly less confident. He listened and shook his head. “Are you absolutely certain, without doubt?”
Drexlar and the other junior offices had stopped what they were doing, threat of soiled ancestors or not, and stared at the Captain. The look on his face told them it was not good. They waited for an eternity before Bort spoke again.
“Copy that Alpha, confirming scale estimate irregularities. Can you be certain of the dimension differences?”
The Junior officers slowly encircled Bort.
“One five hundredth? Are you sure?” His tone was barely a whisper now. “Okay copy Alpha leader.”
Drexlar spoke first as the Captain looked up to see the faces of the pfficers around him. “What is is Sir?” He asked. “What’s happened?”
Bort licked his lips, his mouth dry. “Shit…”

The Secret Doors on 75th – Room 101

It’s been a while since I did anything constructive on here. Let’s give it a try.

These things tend to be short pieces that may or may not be the beginning of something else. Originally they were 101 words but this month I will allow myself more.  M’s prompt was ‘The secret doors on 75th’.

If Sam was anything he was brave.  Or perhaps he was stupid, being as similar as they are when it comes to young men, but either way he was not one for backing down from a challenge.  His eyes twinkled and he flashed a broad smile and with the other boys encouraging him he brushed the mop of thick brown hair from his eyes and put his shoulder to the door.

 “Sam, you’re going to get us into trouble” said Tom looking about nervously.  Being a few years younger but considerably wiser Tom was often the voice of reason.  That said, it was pretty obvious that he was not going to be listened to today.

 “Relax Tom” Sam grinned, “the place is abandoned no one cares.”

 “Come on Sam” shouted one of the older boys.  “Leave him be Tom.”

 Tom stood back as Sam threw himself at the old door with its peeling paint and tarnished lion’s head knocker.  A once brilliant number 7 now hung crooked and swung each time Sam barged into the old wooden panels.  Wiping his brow he gave it all he had and with a loud splintering of wood the door gave way, the lock ripping free.

 The boys exploded in unison cheering and shouting with the exception of Thomas who looked up and down the street nervously.  Fortunately there was no one around to see.

 “What you waiting for Sam, go inside” shouted the older boy.  “You don’t believe the old stories do you?”

 Sam dusted himself off and turned to the group of boys, his face a broad smile and a glint in his eye.  “I ain’t afraid of anything” he said folding his arms.  “I’m going to be the first person to go in here since…” He paused.  Actually no one had lived there for as long as any of them could remember and none of the adults could remember a time when anyone had come and gone from the building.

 “Be careful Sam” said Tom walking up the steps to where Sam stood.  Sam ruffled his brothers hair and put a reassuring arm on his shoulder.  “It’ll be fine, I’ll bring you something back”  and with that he pushed through the door and stepped inside. 

 He turned to wave to th boys outside but the sliver of light from the door suddenly disappeared and he found himself in complete darkness.  Suddenly he didn’t feel so brave and he reached out into the inly blackness to try and make his way back to the door but could find nothing.  “Tom” he shouted, his heart racing.  “Tom, can you hear me?”  He paused waiting for a response but there was nothing until he picked up the feint sound of running water followed by a deep booming voice.

 “Who dares to enter my halls?”

 Sam placed his hands over his ears closed his eyes.

 “Who are you boy” came the voice for a second time.  “What are you doing here?  How did you get in?”

 Sam opened his eyes and stammered am response.  “Th-the door “ he said.  “I came through the door.”

 “The door?  My kingdom has no door.  Tell the truth now boy.  Did he send you?”

 “Me?” answered Sam confused.  “No Sir, I came through the door.  The one on 75th.”

 “75th? Hmm I don’t recall any doors” he replied.  “Are you sure he didn’t snd you, he really is most persistent.”

 “No really, I just came through the door and now I am here.”

 The voice seemed to sigh and mumble to itself.

 “Do you plan to stay?”

 “No Sir, I need to get home.  My mum be worried sick and Tom will get into so much trouble if I don’t go back.”

 “Hmm.  I would so like some company though.  It has been a very long time since anyone visited.  No one seems to want to come over.  Are you sure I couldn’t convince you it really is rather nice here if you just give it a chance.  You and my son would get on famously I’m sure.”

 “No really, I should be going.” Sam answered turning back towards where he thought the door might be. 

 “That’s a real shame, a real shame indeed.  I’ve been waiting so long for someone to come over but…” the voice trailed away.

 “Yes?” prompted Sam.

“Did I mention we have eternal life?”

 Sam shook his head.

 “Oh yes” he continued.  “and the roads are paved with gold you know.”

 Sam continued to inch backwards away from the voice until he felt what could be the door behind him.  His hands felt around in the darkness until he found what he was certain was a door handle.

 “Sounds great” Sam said as politely as he could with his hear pounding and a tremor in his voice.  “If I am not home for tea there will be hell to pay.”

 The voice let out a raucous laugh.  “Now you see, another thing you don’t have to worry about here.  He can’t get in so no worries on that front.”  He sounded rather proud.  “So how about it Sam, fancy it?  There’s loads of room you can stay in my house.  There are loads of rooms.”

 “Thanks but like I said I need to get going” Sam said and with one movement he pulled open the door and threw himself outside with final desperate words ringing in his ears…”We have ice cream and wifi.”

 

 

 

Fragrant Fog – Room 101

It’s been a while since I did anything constructive on here. Let’s give it a try.

These things tend to be short pieces that may or may not be the beginning of something else. Originally they were 101 words but this month I will allow myself more.  M’s prompt was ‘Fragrant Fog’.

James pulled his coat collar high up around his ears as he left the tube station and crossed the road towards the bus terminal.  It was cold for the time of year and the night was still, unusually so. 

 “God I can’t wait for spring” he mumbled to himself as a thick fog wound it’s way across the Thames and crawled through the cold wet streets.  He looked at his watch as the white blanket muffled the noise of the traffic and the distant chimes of St Clements as they struck ten.

 “Shit” he said angrily realising he’d just missed his bus.  He would have to wait another half an hour for the next one.

 “Hey mate” came a voice as he crossed into the bus station.  “Can you spare any change?”

 He rummaged in his pockets.

 “Sorry no, got nothing pal” he said looking down at the dishevelled man sat next to the terminal entrance.

 “What about brains?  Got any of them?”

 James stopped in his tracks cocking his head, a quizzical look on his face. 

 “Brains?  What you on about mate?  You might want to stay off the booze.”

 “Not sure really, just fancied some brains you know.”  He got to his feet slowly and took a step towards where he stood.  “Go on, just a little.”

 “Jesus, no” James shouted stepping back.  “Back off man or I’ll call the police.”

 “Please mate, I’m gagging” the man continued, his arms outstretched and blood shot eyes wide and wild.  He licked his lips, eyes fixed on James.  “I’ll only eat a little, I’m just so hungry.”

 Panicked by the look on the man’s face he darted past him and raced into the main concourse of the station.  A few people were huddled from the cold and the fog  and buses stood parked up for the night.

 “Mate please” came a desperate shout.  “Don’t run it’ll be okay I promise and all over in no time.”

 James Turned to see the man shuffling towards him as the for swirled around his feet, arms outstretched and teeth bared.   

 “Shit, shit, shit” he shouted and turned to run, his heart pounding and his heart racing.

 As he ran across the road towards the main ticket office he heard another voice call out to him.

 “Hey pal is everything alright?”

 James looked around frantically, picking out a figure stood in the doorway to what looked to be an admin block.  

 “Please, I need your help” he exclaimed pointing across to where the beggar was slowly shuffling through the fog.  “That crazy bugger is after me and says he wants my brains.”

 The man laughed and emerged slowly from the fog that now filled the air about them.  “Brains you say?  Have you been drinking?”

 James suddenly felt less panicked as he picked out the familiar uniform of the transport police.

 “ No I swear” he insisted, “reckons he wants to eat them.”

 The officer smiled and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

 “You know, I could go for some brains myself…”

 

 

 

Diet o’clock 12th of August

Archaeologists recently confirmed my fatness outdates the internet mostly.

I have been fat for as long as I can remember.  Or at least I believed I was.  There has been the odd occasion where I definitely wasn’t but for the most part I have been.

I have always loved food, and still do, and I am going to assume that had something to do with it.  I believe my nick name was officially ‘Fat Kid for a few years amongst a certain crowd when I was younger but if I recall correctly they were actually my closer friends and it didn’t last that long and whilst I would say it never bothered me it has stuck with me.

Thinking back before that I was broad shouldered and pretty handy at rugby growing up and through my teen years, and whilst not massive I always carried extra weight which helped on the pitch.  I do remember joining a club after school and hearing one of the players comment in Afrikaans that it was good to have “another nice fat front rower’.  Looking back at photos though, I don’t think I  was that big.  Certainly nowhere near where I am now.

I guess it is something I have always lived with, though I don’t quite recall my first diet.  I t must have been quite some time ago because I found this when I was going through stuff in the cellar this week.

20180812_2325278990394719585957163.jpg

The oldies amongst you will recognise a 3.5 Inch drive and it seems that probably 18 years ago I was attempting to do something about things.  Made me really question myself because 18 years is a bloody long time to get progressively fatter and fatter.   I mean what was the world like in 2000?

Well there was the shenanigans over the Y2K bug – so I must have had that to worry about on top of having hefty man boobs, and I was likely sobbing into my breakfast cake as the final ‘Peanuts’ was published following the death of Charles M Schulz.  Oh lordy, Bob The Builder was top of the charts here in the UK.  I was likely comfort eating for sure.

I tried to remember making it but cant so am looking forward to firing up an old PC I still have to see what is on it.  I do wonder what goal weight I set for myself.  I’ll let you know

 

 

This mostly resulted in me gagging a lot…

The one where I take the freezer to the tip…

Okay so this involves a freezer, a trip to the tip and my weak constitution.  There are a few photos and videos too…you can make sense of it I am sure.

 

 

 

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Colleen’s Weekly #Tanka Tuesday #Poetry Challenge No. 96, “Congregate & Passion,” #SynonymsOnly — Colleen Chesebro ~ The Fairy Whisperer

Go on, give it a go…

WELCOME TO TANKA TUESDAY! Hi! I’m glad to see you here. Are you ready to write some poetry? HERE’S THE CATCH: You can’t use the prompt words! SYNONYMS ONLY! I hope you will support the other poets with visits to blogs and leaving comments. Sharing each other’s work on social media is always nice too. Opportunities for […]

via Colleen’s Weekly #Tanka Tuesday #Poetry Challenge No. 96, “Congregate & Passion,” #SynonymsOnly — Colleen Chesebro ~ The Fairy Whisperer

100 Word Wednesday: Week 83 — Bikurgurl

Looking for a weekly Wednesday writing prompt? Look no further.

Image by Bikurgurl Welcome! Thank you for joining our awesome writing community who challenges themselves weekly as we weave together our 100 words! What 100 words would you give this image? Interested in joining us? Check out the guidelines below and ping back to be included in the Writing Wind-up! Let the writing begin! […]

via 100 Word Wednesday: Week 83 — Bikurgurl