Today is the last day of NaBloPoMo's theme between. It has been interesting trying to come up with different topics around the premise of the word. I've actually had a great time writing everyday on this theme. It has been enlightening to say the least.
Tomorrow I will embark on several challenges including NaBloPoMo.
When Beauty Meets Morbid
Joe hovered over Michelle, doting on her like a lost puppy. He'd fantasized about this very moment
when he'd have her all to himself. Now she was there and his alone. In high school Joe had always
worshiped Michelle Collins, but she was a cheerleader and he was a science geek. The two didn't socialize,not in high school anyway. Not anywhere really, except here in the morgue.
She lay on the metal table, her perfect and pristine form unaware the science geek she made fun of
all those years ago was about to tear her beautiful body apart. The corner of his pencil thin lips curled intoa smirk. Finally, after twenty years he had her right where he wanted her. Joe gathered the necessaryinstruments to perform his duty, after all he was the town's only mortician.
He washed her in the sterile solution before proceeding. The morgue reeked of death, but Joe
savored the smell. It was "her' smell. Next came the daunting task of organ removal. His mind was
clouded. Joe needed fresh air. He needed a cigarette.
Joe grabbed a fresh, starched white sheet and placed it over his high school crushes body before
exiting the morgue. Once outside he lit up the strong menthol cigarette and took a few puffs. He snubbed the rest on the brick wall and went back inside to finish Michelle Collins.
She was still lying on the table. Of course she would be, he thought. She's dead as a doornail. He
shook his head. "Michelle, Michelle, Michelle... why did it have to come to this?" He half expected her to answer.
If only she had agreed to dinner, she wouldn't be lying on the slab of cold steel. And he wouldn't
have had to kill her. Why did it have to come to that? Beads of perspiration formed on Joe's brow. He
probed her insides until he had removed all of her vital organs. He threw them in the metal bucket at the foot of the table, except for her heart. Joe had a special place for it prepared.
He held up her cold, dead heart. His face grew dark and a morbid laugh escaped his mouth. "I told
you one day Michelle you would be mine."
Joe took her heart and placed it in a formaldehyde filled glass jar, sewed her up and went home with
her pickled heart in a jar. It was like carrying moonbeams around....
© 2011, Debra Ann Elliott
In two days I'll be a writing machine. I'll be lost between my words and pen, between the ink and paper. I'll be lost between my characters and their problems, between my imagination and their reality.
In two days NaNoWriMo begins and I'll be lost between my computer and my family, between getting my word count done and sanity.
It's only a matter of days before the transition begins. I feel as if I am in limbo, trapped between being a good writer and a great writer.On November 1st I will transition myself into a writing machine. I will become a writing fool, a monster spewing forth words.
Only four days left before I embark on a writing journey. I am kind of stuck between what I was going to write and changing my mind and going in another direction.
I really don't know until I start typing or putting words onto paper. I don't like the idea of being stuck and not sure of where I want my writing to go.
Only time will tell if I stay stuck between the idea I have now and a fresh new look.
As a writer do you ever feel torn between genre's? I know I do. I have a hard time finding my niche. I love to write fiction as well as non-fiction. I write romance, fantasy, SF and anything that I take a fancy too! I can't help myself.
I consider myself a Christian writer, though not always is my work Christian. I do write secular stories.
So if you ever feel torn between genre's, write what you want, write what you feel. Why choose?
Between the web you wove
words of deceit...
You created a lair of lies
Between the web you wove
words of sweet...
You created a tangle of alibis
Ten months ago I made a choice and stopped working outside the home, to pursue my writing. I did write, but the way the economy is I couldn't continue to write and not bring in enough income for us to survive. So I make the decision to go back to work. I am now working PT (4 hours) a day. It's a little money to help make ends meet.
Yea, it takes away from my writing, but I feel it is what God wants. He answered a prayer yesterday and I know it was His way of telling my He no longer wants us to struggle.
I also know that the right writing opportunity will come along and we will no longer have to worry.
Do You Ever Feel You're Caught Between Parallel Worlds?
This is a question I ask myself daily, but I never have an answer. Some days I do feel caught between what I love to do and the ones I love. I feel caught between the world of writing and the world of my reality.
There are days when I think everything I do, say or touch falls to pieces. I feel my worlds are going to collide any minute. My life is a surreal reality caught between parallel worlds.
Women of Faith Writing Contest 2011
I am entering. I'm taking my blog posts 'Getting Through the Hurt and Learning How to Heal: A Journey Through Post Abortion' and turning into a book.
Here's the prologue:
After an abortion you may experience many facets of an emotional roller coaster. You may feel hatred, guilt, shame and yes, sometimes even relief. These gamut of emotions run deep creating wounds that may never heal and permanent scars that can last a lifetime.
In order for you to heal, mend and start the recovery process you must travel down many different roads and go through the fire before you get where God is taking you.
Your life will never be the same after an abortion. You must adjust your internal emotional clock in order to realize you are human and God has already forgiven you. Now, you must learn how to forgive yourself.
All the negative voices inside you head will worm their way into the crevices of your soul if you stay in the dark place of life.
I want to take you on many journeys and through the fire until you reach God's purpose for you.
He does not want you to suffer. He brought you through the storms to help the hurting, heal the broken and harbor the lost.
You may go through the journeys many years or only a day, but you will come from the ashes into the beauty a stronger woman so you can fulfill God's purpose for you. It took me over thirty-five years to realize I needed to go through the journeys and fire before I could fulfill my promise to God.
I got through it and so will you. With the Lord leading my hand, I will show you what God has planned for you too!
From Jenny Matlock's Saturday Centus:
THE PROMPT THIS WEEK IS: I planted a little story seed...
WORD COUNT - Not to exceed 100 words, plus the six words of the prompt. 106 total maximum words.
STYLE OF WRITING - Any
My heart jumped out of my chest. I was certain he could hear the thunderous thump, thump, thump. I tried to steady my shaky hand. I wanted my aim to be dead on.
I watched John and his mistress cavort. They were like clock-work. Every Saturday they would meet at the park. He would push her high in the swing. They acted like a couple of school kids. How could he?
The gun shook violently in my hand. They didn't see me. The massive oak tree hid me from their view. Why John? I gave you twenty-five years of my life. This is how you repay me.
John and the pretty young thing he chose over me continued their jaunt like they were the only two in the world. I cocked the 38 Special and aimed in their direction. My palms sweated profusely. I wiped them on the side of my jogging suit. I didn't really have a plan. No get-a-way, just shoot them dead and wait for the cops.
Suddenly John and his girl toy ran toward my direction. I panicked. Did they spot me? Bile rose in my throat. It was now or never. They got closer to the edge of where I lay in wait. They were like rabbits caught in a snare.
I stepped out from behind the massive oak tree and caught them off guard.
"Suzette!" John's shocked voice cracked. His eyes widened. "I....I can explain," he muttered.
Girl toy didn't say anything. She tried to hide behind John, but I grabbed her thin, barely there tee-shirt and yanked her back so she could face me.
I saw the fear in her eyes.
I pointed the gun at them. "Well John, looks like you lied again."
"Suzette please. It's not what you think. Please let her go."
"Please," I screamed. "That's all you have to say."
He began to shake. I had him right where I wanted him.
"How could you be so insensitive? I thought you were happy?"
I didn't give him a chance to answer. I pulled the trigger twice and blew their brains out.
For the Indie Ink Writing Challenge this week, Seesaw challenged me with "insensitive" and I challenged Kat with "the good,the bad and the ugly".
Who Stands Between
Who stands between
right and wrong?
weak and strong?
Who stands between
good and bad?
happy and sad?
Who stands between
today and tomorrow?
pain and sorrow?
Between now and then. This statement has always puzzled my train of thought. What does it really mean? Does anybody have an accurate clue?
From the time I can remember I've always heard or known the statement has existed, but never known what it was suppose to mean. Between now and then we what?
As a child I can recall my grandmother said it a lot when folks took sick. "Well, between now and then we'll just pray," she'd say. I wanted to always ask her, "between now and what?
What is then? How do we get to then? The way I interpret the statement is this way: between now and then (then being death) we are suppose to live the life as the Lord intended. There are suppose to be in betweens. Between now and then I think we are to live our lives in the now. If we are Christian's then we know what will happen in the then. It's what happens between now and then that truly matters.
You might ask yourself what am I suppose to do between now and then? The answer is simple. The bible lays out your between plan so you can get to then.
The only 'between' between now and then is Jesus.
|Captain Carl Kelly ESBC courtesy Jenny Hoffman Ellison|
|Photo by: Taste of Home|
Blog Action Day is an annual event that unites the world’s bloggers in posting about the same issue on the same day. Our aim is to raise awareness and trigger a global discussion around an important issue that impacts us all.
For 2011, our Blog Action Day coincides with World Food Day, so the topic of discussion for this year will be food.
As I was reading through a few of the blogs I follow I noticed a lot of my bloggy friends were posting about Blog Action Day 2011. I had never heard about it and was curious. Their topic today is food which happens to coincide with World Food Day.
I thought how can I approach the subject of food and world hunger, easy because I've been there.
Have you actually ever gone hungry? Do you know what it feels like to put your child to bed hungry? I do!
My family lives on a fixed income so it's from pay day to pay day. Hand to mouth. We don't starve like the millions of others on the vast planet, but there are days I'll go without so my grandson won't.
I think about how blessed we are that we do have remnants of food on our table, when so many have to scrounge the trash bins for a minuscule morsel. Is it fair? No!
The food banks are bare like Old Mother Hubbard's cupboard. The government programs are running out of funding and officials turn a blind eye, sweep the hungry under the rug or out the door.
Hunger is a world-wide epidemic. It won 't go away over night(it will probably never go away).
The only decent meal some children get is at school(one of the greatest blessings for a child)because their parent's can't afford food.
Your neighbor may go hungry tonight because they had to choose between paying bills or buying medicine. Your child's friend may go to sleep with an empty belly. How will you respond?
A lot of good intentioned people talk a good talk, but don't walk the walk. Which are you?
NOBODY IN THIS WORLD SHOULD GO HUNGRY!
Between the silence
I hear your words
ticking like a time bomb
ready to explode...
Between the silence
I hear what
you don't say
your words corrode...
Between the silence
no a sound spoken
my soul implodes.
For the Indie Ink Writing Challenge this week, Mark G challenged me with "A daring plan to save print news industry" and I challenged femmefauxpas with "After twenty-five years of marriage...".
STOP THE PRESSES
My today's between post is a poem: