1 is the loneliest #

{This is a continuation of My Great-Grandfather’s Sword}

I struggled to my feet; took a few shuffling steps towards the edge of the rock outcrop.

I saw the wasteland we had created stretching below me. I had never felt so alone.

To the south, a thin green line was visible on the horizon against the leaden grey sky and skittering black clouds.

To the south it is then. I had no sword belt nor frog, so I created a makeshift sash from a length of cord left behind after the battle. Shoved the ancient sword (my great-grandfather’s sword?) between the doubled cord and my body; it felt strangely light against my leg.

Painfully, I changed into my spare shirt, noticing a healing wound in my abdomen. I put all my worldly belongings into my bedroll, using the remaining cord to tie it up.

I slung my bedroll over my shoulder, and across my chest. I started the long slide and search for hand-holds down the outcrop.

The sword started to vibrate. “Our first quest,” it said, “our first quest”

Perhaps I wasn’t so alone after all.

Written for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Tale Weaver’s Prompt #36, Sea of Otherworldly Stars.

ba, ba, white sheep

Sheep Control Pawel Kuczynski 36

Pawel Kuczynski

Ba ba white sheep have you done a crime?

yes sir yes sir many’s the time

Ba ba white sheep for this you will have to pay

yes sir, yes, sir, it’s off to the gallows today

Written for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Photo Challenge #36, sheep control

between halo and horns

between halo and horns

tight, concentric circles

etch the copper of my


lone orchid

whole spirit

of my being

falls slowly

into chasm



and death



and horns

Inspired by mindlovemisery’s wordle #36 (November 24, 2014)

Week 36