Some children,
in the night,
call to their parents
to protect them from
the monster in the closet.

Some children,
in the night,
open the closet door
and hope the monster inside
will protect them.

Originally posted at http://violetcheetah.dreamwidth.org/81503.html. Feel free to comment there
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[I wrote this in June. I meant to edit it to be more coherent before posting it, but that's not going to happen, so I'm posting it as-is ( Read more... )

[The workshop prompt was to write about the worst insult from your childhood.]

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"You're pretty," she said. I was stunned. I was 8, and I was not pretty. I knew I was not pretty, and no one ever pretended. People said, "You have such pretty long hair," or "You look just like your Aunt Jean," and she had pretty hair, and she was nice to me and ( Read more... )

When I was six, I was playing near our neighbor's horse pasture when I saw the most beautiful flower I'd ever seen just on the other side of the fence.  It seemed huge, and to me incredibly exotic.  We didn't have flowers in the yard, so my experience was mainly with dandelions, daisies, black-eyes susans, and the occasional rose.  It smelled ( Read more... )

I apparently planned to write this on March 9 - or at least that's when I named and saved the blank Word file - which is before I heard about Harold Camping, so the timing is entirely coincidental.

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