Blah (an acrostic lament)

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Being sick is always sucky, especially when it’s your stomach and intestines

Listing there aimlessly, hoping for the internal torment to subside

And yet all you can do is moan and hope for a break in your condition

How many times can you count the bathroom tiles?

Blue (an acrostic poem)

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Being depressed on a day where light rains down from a robin’s egg sky

Leaves her wanting to curse up and down for feeling blah on such a perfect day

Ultimately, she goes to her safe space, puts on some B.B. King, and curls up in a ball

Enveloped in her azure blanket, she lets loose her own rain

Cider (an acrostic poem)

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Cold pressed apple fluids left outside in a large jug

In the dead of winter the water freezes on top

Driving the flavor into a more concentrated solution below

Each time the blah ice is then removed and the process repeats over and over for months

Rewarded finally with a fermented drink that tasted of sunny autumn days and patience

Blah (an acrostic poem)

But the plot will come if you just type words.  You just have to believe.

Like that would really happen.  He laughed bitterly.

All it meant was the letter vomit on the page might be some sort of Rorschach story form.

He closed the document and went to bed.  He had seen enough.

 

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The Spice of Life (a 100 word story)

When Glenda put the curse on Bill he just laughed it off.  He was doomed to not be able to taste salt, ever.  He could put the whole shaker right on his tongue, but nothing would happen.

Bill thought this was the lamest curse, but over time he found himself eating less and less.  He didn’t bother going out to dinner anymore.  There was never any joy in food.  Other tastes faded into monotony.

His life devolved into the blandness he experienced eating.  He went to ask forgiveness, but Glenda passed away weeks before.

All he could say was, “Blah.”

 

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