Scream (an acrostic poem)

Silence wrapped its hands around her throat

Containing the sounds that wanted to escape

Racing pulse rate filled in the empty soundscape

Except she was the only one to hear it’s percussive note

As the room began to grow gray, then black

Making a noise seemed the least of her concerns


Fear (an acrostic poem)

Focus on the lock.  Focus on the lock!

Even though Myra could hear the monster coming

As she finally got the combination right, she felt the razor slice her throat

Reality shattered as she felt her life force pulse away

Pumpkin (an acrostic poem)

Pushing his horse to go faster, Jon peered through the fog

Under the full moon, the fog formed a concealing haze

Muttering under his breath, Jon was forced to slow down

Pelting his head on a branch wouldn’t be much better than getting caught

Killed was killed, no matter which way his head crumbled

It began to clear and Jon could see the old school house.  He was almost home

Nathan found Jon’s remains mingled with those of an orange squash on the school’s wall

Secrets (an acrostic poem)

Simple things were not always possible

Even when Thomas was the perfect one

Christine finished laying the bricks of the new outdoor fireplace

Rather than something small, she had decided to go massive

Everything had a place, including a water feature and cedar lined benches

Thomas would have loved it, but he had broken up with her yesterday

She hoped the cedar would hide the smell when he started to decay

He Thought/ She Thought (an experimental story)

The story below is an experiment in word counts.  Each side of the story follows the following pattern: 100 words, 50 words, 25 words, and finally 15 words.  Just in case you were wondering that is.  🙂


The rain washed away her blood from his hands.  He looked at the sky, feeling the water seep into his deep wrinkles on his face, diverting them into large rivers flooding off his cheeks.  He was trying to figure out if he was crying, but the deluge of water purged any bodily sensation of possible tears.  He lowered his head and began to shuffle along the game trail between the tall pines.   Their evergreen arms scratched at his skin, pulling at him, almost begging him to go back, but he refused.  She was dead.  Nothing could change that now.  Nothing.

She awoke to thunder that bragged about the lightning that had spawned it.  She had blacked out after the knife had cut both her arms.  That was a blessing, passing out before the end, but here she was still alive, or was she?  She looked at the front door wide open and realized he wasn’t here.  He must have fled into the night.  She could not let him get away.  Not after what happened.  She gathered her splayed limbs back under her and lurched after him.  She wanted to see the look in his eyes when he saw her again.

He stumbled and fell, the cold from the rain seeping into his old bones.  Maybe it was better for him this way.  He could pass away quietly and not have to deal with the ramifications of his actions.  With his face away from the rain, he knew he was crying.

She ran through the pines, growing stronger with each step.  The rain matted her blond curls against her bare back.  She had discarded her bloody dress back at the cabin.  She felt primal, alive for the first time in years.  Up ahead she saw him floundering, wallowing in the mud.

He heard her feet pounding just before she pounced on his back.  He tried to roll her off, but he knew he was too old.

She laughed as she sunk her teeth into the base of his neck.  The taste of his coppery sweet blood made her growl with hunger.

He had wanted to save his daughter, instead he had changed her into a zombie.

She felt him shudder just before his skull exploded with the help of a rock.