Hmmm…maybe I should have worn a mask…
Photo: Mathew Scwartz
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Archive for the ‘Halloween’ Category
Witch…a very short story
“What do you mean, I’m not what you expected?” she asked.
“I thought witches looked different,” he said.
“Different than what?”
“I thought you’d be…green and…ugly,” he stammered. “You know, warts, broken nose, and things like that.”
“Sorry to disappoint you,” she said, glaring at him.
“I’m not disappointed, I’m just surprised, that’s all.”
“You should go now.”
“Why?” he asked. “You’re beautiful.”
“Sadly, you are not.” she sighed. “And if you don’t leave this minute, you’ll be hopping out of here.”
He laughed and shook his head. “Are you saying that you’ll turn me into a…ribbit.”
“Yes,” she said, looking at the toad sitting on the floor.
She poked him with the toe of her boot, then scooped him up and carried him to the pond out back, where he could croak and splash around with all the others who didn’t run when they should have.
Photo: Pinterest.com
A Short Halloween story…
“Come closer,” she whispered.
“I don’t think so,” he said, backing up.
“Are you afraid?”
“I’d be stupid not to be,” he mumbled.
“Why?”
“You look…”
“Powerful? Strong? Mad?”
“Yes.”
“Which one?” she asked.
“All of them,” he said.
“You can’t get away,” she laughed, the flame of her torch crackling.
He turned to run but his feet wouldn’t move. He stared at her in horror.
“Told you,” she sang.
“Let me go,” he said. “Or…”
“Or what?” she hissed. “OR WHAT?”
“Why are you doing this?” he asked, fear seeping into his voice, as he struggled to move.
“How many women do you think have said those words? How many have tried to RUN?Don’t you ever wonder about that? Next you’ll be saying please stop, please don’t hurt me. Have you read The Handmaids Tale?”
“No.”
“Too bad,” she sighed. “Then you won’t understand when I tell you that I’m part of their opposite. We are proactive. This entire building is surrounded by women just like me. But the Handmaids wore red, for blood. We wear black for the death of patriarchy and men in general. You probably should have read the book.”
“You’ll never kill patriarchy or male power,” he spat.
“Wow, you’re even dumber than you look.”
“He really is,” said another woman, walking into the light. “But everything is ready. Let’s get on with it, we have a lot more to do tonight.”
“WAIT,” he shouted, holding up his hands. Then everything went black.
***
“He woke laying on a mattress on the floor. An IV was taped in his hand. He had a massive headache and his knee was killing him. His whole body felt sore. When he looked down, he choked, as he saw his breasts for the very first time. His heart skipped a beat, or ten. He quickly ran his hands over his entire body and realized that he was no longer male.
Clothes were piled neatly at his feet. Lacy things, a skirt and a small looking sweater. The shoes had spiked heels he knew he wouldn’t be able to walk in. His heart was beating again, but it was pounding so hard he could barely breath. He felt dizzy, as panic threatened to overtake him.
The typed note attached to the sweater read:
“Welcome to the Sisterhood. Walk a mile in our shoes and see how you like it from this side. Death to patriarchy, even if it’s one at a time.”
Photo: Mohammad Metri
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Nightime…a story of revenge
Some call them a coven, but they aren’t witches. They are simply a group of dedicated women who are tired of looking the other way when violence against women is everywhere, and the screams of their battered and violated sisters, world wide, can be heard in the streets.
They are women who have seen life from the end of a fist, or the floor of a dorm, or an alley. Women who have scars and know how to make perfect stitches in the flesh of others, when they need to be put back together again. They are brave, beautiful and angry warriors. Women who can make accidents happen. Know how to hide bodies, and get blood stains out of clothing. They never forgive or forget, and they never miss their mark. Halloween, is their favorite time of the year.
They are protected by the Death Goddess Kali, and walk with Diana, Goddess of the Hunt.
They are always working and always recruiting. I can’t tell you their name, or how to contact them directly, but if you leave a note in the crook of the tree, you might hear from them.
Oh, one more thing. Revenge tastes like chocolate, to die for, brownies with chunky dark chocolate chips and a gooey molten lava center. Really. It does. It tastes so good they can’t even hear the men beg for the mercy they never gave anyone else.
Photo: Erik Mclean
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Pumpkins…a poem
for this moment
little one
don’t be afraid
it’s our one chance
to look out
at the world
away from
the pumpkin patch
everything is
different here
and while
we might not have
a lot of time
enjoy
every moment
of your freedom
and know that you
are loved
Photo: Samuel Bryngelsson
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How they met…
“Are you in line?” he asked.
She looked around. “I’m the only one here,” she said. “I don’t think you can have a line with only one person.”
He smiled. “Okay, then are you the start of the line?”
“I am not,” she said, stepping to the side.
“Aren’t you going into the cornfield when it’s darker?”
“No.”
“Why not.
“Because I’m sane,” she said.
“As opposed to someone like me, who can hardly wait to run through that field.”
“Yes, actually. Haven’t you ever seen any horror movies? You’d probably walk past the open front door of a haunted house and run into the basement.”
“You mean I’m stupid, don’t you?”
“Just trying to be polite.”
“Ah. So, what exactly do you think might be hiding in the cornfield?” he snickered. “Monsters?”
“Mostly, boys like you.”
“Understandable, I guess.”
“Well, don’t let me stop you,” she said, waving her hand toward the entrance. It should be dark any second.”
He grinned, and bounced on the balls of his feet, ready to go. “What do you think I should be afraid of, when I’m in there?” he asked.
“Girls like me,” she said, smiling, as her fangs dropped. “Definitely, girls like me.”
Photo: Bence Halmosi
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Halloween…Vamps…and some words
just keep
telling yourself
that
VAMPIRES
don’t exist
then hope
that one of them
doesn’t
stop by
and ask
if you have
anything
to drink
Photo: Loren Cutler
Unsplash
Poe and his Raven… (rerun)
Mr. Poe & his Raven
Mr. Poe
was quiet distressed
even though
he did his best
he never could
get any rest
the bird
was just
relentless
the raven
cawed both
day and night
gave all the neighbors
quite a fright
but didn’t
care for them
at all
the bird
enjoyed
relentless
Mrs. Poe
spoke
very slow
she said the bird
would have to go
but Poe stood strong
and said oh no
he can’t help
he’s
relentless
I love the raven
he’s my friend
I’m sticking by him
till the end
on this one issue
I won’t bend
it’s okay
he’s
relentless
now leave me woman
I must write
before the dawn
bursts forth with light
the bird won’t let me
sleep tonight
because
he’s
so
relentless
the raven looked
at Poe and said
what’s going on
inside your head
I’m sitting here
within your view
don’t you know
what you should do
it’s not that
I don’t care for you
it’s just that
I’m
relentless
I’m tired raven
can’t you see
THIS is what YOU
do to me
you never stop
you always caw
you truly
are
relentless
Poe got up
reached for the door
the raven dropped
down to the floor
you love me
just the way I am
you know you
like
relentless
goodnight my friend
my body’s sore
I’m sorry that
I’m such a bore
I’m off to bed
to get some sleep
please
don’t
be
relentless
the raven stopped
and shook his head
yes do go on
it’s off to bed
but sleep
won’t come
for you
old friend
because
my
name’s
Relentless
Halloween…a poem
Halloween
is edging closer
and
Jokers are
coming out of the
woodwork
books by
Poe
are being dusted off
and the
Tell Tale Heart
is beating
quietly
while
The Raven
Squawks
no candy
this year
due to
DEATH BY VIRUS
so the
wee
demons
will be
restless
and
monsters
will be dreaming
of
blood
and
missed
opportunities
Written
on October 19, 2020