In the Beginning (a 100 word story)

The darkness grabbed onto his words and crumpled them into tight rejected wads of failure.  He typed with such a frenzy to keep ahead of the monster, but it was faster than his imagination, consuming all his ideas and dreams.  It then had the nerve to regurgitate its partially digested remains onto the page.

He tried to rearrange the mess into something that hinted at his intentions, but he was not a forensic investigator.  The work seemed dead.  And to think he thought he was a writer.

He consoled himself.  “Well, it’s a start.”  He saved his work and shut down.

 

Image:  2.bp.blogspot.com/-c6XmTrhJMgA/UgkczT8J3wI/AAAAAAAABm8/OAYru5V79Xc/s200/130812-jumble.jpg

Blessed (an acrostic poem)

Being all alone was hard on Mary

Losing Rachel at such a young age left a scar

Even after four years, Mary would return weekly to the grave site

Sharing her thoughts and dreams, troubles and victories

So much of her life was under that dirt

Everything just seemed so much harder

Daily though she thanked God for the chance to keep Rachel alive in her heart

 

Image:  previews.123rf.com/images/chrisdorney/chrisdorney1310/chrisdorney131000034/22628988-in-loving-memory-inscribed-on-a-gravestone-.jpg

Gluttony (an acrostic poem)

Gastronomical wonders coursed through his dreams

Leaving Gary with a sense of contentment

Until the alarm went off announcing the next course

Towering hunks of roasted meat awaited this time

Tempting Gary to push his limits once more

Only ten minutes on the clock for the all you can eat competition

No problem eating eight pounds of meaty goodness

Yet during the competition, he savored not a single morsel

Writing Inspiration? (A 100 Word Post)

Part of the time I know exactly what I am doing.  Unfortunately that part is usually when I’m sleeping.  That is why I propose the building of the great machine.  This invention will capture your dreams and put them into the world for all to see.  It will allow you to put your imagination directly into your audiences’ heads.  What is the price of such a miracle?  Why only you forfeiting a small part of your soul.  The soul is converted through self-doubt and torture into fairy dust to transform dreams into words on a page.  Isn’t that a bargain?