I don’t really want to be here.
No, not today.
Continue readingAuthor: cksdays
Words of encouragement
If I could visit my younger self – the girl in the midst of the refiner’s fire – I would give her words of encouragement. And, since I know that girl all too well, I’d know exactly what to say.
Continue readingSome Poems
The Goal of the Ear-worm
Let’s just get to the point. I have a new goal. I want to create an ear-worm. Doesn’t have to be a song (looking at you Islands in the Stream (you are welcome for getting that in your head. Good luck getting it out!)). Or it can just be a poem (nod to The Raven). It doesn’t matter. I just want my words to become an insidious ear-worm that gets stuck on replay in people’s heads. Too much to ask?
Continue readingPretend
Story behind the post: The Samson Pill
Maybe you are new to this little blog. Maybe you are just passing through. Maybe you are a faithful reader (there are a couple of you). Whatever the case, welcome! If you are new here, let me tell you about last year’s writing goal: write one continuous story every 5-Saturday month. That may sound like an odd goal so let me explain.
Continue readingIrritated
One day I am irritated by everything and all
the next, I am chill and don’t really care at all.
Continue readingThe Samson Pill: Conclusion Chapter 25
Chapter XXV December … and ten years later
The three stood staring at each other. After all this time, both Cooper and Jacob got what they had each wanted. Cooper looked at the man who had killed his mother. Jacob looked at his legacy’s salvation. Only one was going to leave the room alive and they both knew it. Both were determined to be the victor although Jacob was a little more smug with his aspirations.
Continue readingThe Enemy of Production
The Samson Pill: Conclusion Chapter 24
Chapter XXIV Many, many years ago but no one knows how many
She thought he would have been excited. But judging from his silence she was wrong. She thought when she told him about the baby, he would elevate her into his world. Again, she was wrong. Instead, his first question seemingly burned a hole in her heart.
“You sure it’s mine?” he asked in such a low tone it took a moment for her to process his words. They sat on a park bench in the dark. Nothing new there, the only time he met her was in the dark of the night.
“Of course,” she forced a laugh. What a silly question. “Who else would it be?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Could be anyone’s really.” He didn’t even look at her.
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