If we were having coffee, I think I’d opt for some hot apple cider. It’s good stuff on a cold, rainy evening, and I’ve already had a pot and a half of coffee today. I can get you some coffee, tea, or of course some cider if you like. It’s up to you.
It’s been a rough few weeks for me, and I can’t put my finger on exactly why. Best guess, the time change. I haven’t felt like myself since. It’s like I have no motivation to do anything. I’ve barely run, tried to recommit to daily writing but have felt too exhausted in the evenings to make any real headway. It’s been frustrating to say the least. I’m not a person to look forward to bed at 8 o’clock, but that’s been me lately. Some evenings I’ve looked for bed earlier than that!
So I’ve written what I could while trying to keep my eyes open. It hasn’t been a ton of words though. A few 100 word stories for #FridayFictioneers and a sheet full of ideas. Not much, but I’m still plugging away, hoping that I’ll feel like myself again soon.
I’m hoping that this next week will go better. I’m really looking for some good miles and some good words in the coming weeks.
Thanks for stopping by! See you in a bit!
#WeekendCoffeeShare is an informal weekly link-up hosted now by Eclectic Alli that serves as something of a mind-dump for the week. If there are typos and what-not found here, I apologize, but mind-dump. I don’t do a lot of editing here as I like that it is more a stream of consciousness type post, normally written while drinking coffee, listening to music, and reflecting on the week gone by.
Joaquin lay upon the wood-planked floor in the center of it all. The center…of the pentagram chalked in white, of candles blood red tipping each point, and of the circle of poured salt pulled directly from the sea.
Moonbeams filtered through the circular window, filling his circle and himself, with power. The time was near, the circle would be fully lit, and he would pull a demon from the underworld, trapping it in the sea-salt circle. A pet demon, just what he needed.
Scott strutted around the kitchen, head swinging to and fro, red curls swaying in time to the music. “Oh yeah, that’s it,” he declared, throwing out something between a Michael Jackson thrust and a Travolta finger pointing thing.
The toaster popped, and he set to slathering the perfectly browned bread with jelly found in the fridge. His backside kept the beat. Finished, he licked the knife clean and popped it back into the jar.
“Hey, that’s my jam!” came a distressed cry from the kitchen doorway.
Jack sipped his namesake, then turned up the cheap hotel glassware, draining the contents in a gulp before resting the glass atop his tupperware.
He chuckled at the little stack of plastic bowls. He had meal prepped for this trip with all the good intentions of a habitual dieter. Then the business went bad, and the diet with it. The healthy habits landed in the trash can, while he landed in all the local dives eating slop and drinking worse.
He poured another drink as he packed. There’s always next week, he thought. I’ll do better then.
Rose pressed in the last bit of stuffing, stitched the final seam, and began to focus on the details.
Cute buttons for eyes, black thread stitched just right for mouth and nose, and most important, the hair. Long, luxurious curls of black that tumbled from head to waste completed the work.
Everything was just right. Perfect.
She lay the doll atop a pillow and turned her full attention to the pin cushion. She selected a long silver prick with delicate fingers, and pressed it through the doll’s chest and into the pillow below.
If we were having coffee, I’d say that I’ve probably had enough coffee for the day, but I think I can sip on another cup or two with you since you stopped by. And thanks for stopping by! You are, of course, always welcome, and you know I can always hook you up with a caffeine boost in the form of a hot brewed coffee. Coffee not your thing, we can probably find something to suit you.
“It’s you! I’m your biggest fan. I’ve read all your thesis’s and theories. Brilliant! If you wouldn’t mind…”
“Sorry son, didn’t see you there.” Professor Land removed his glasses and rubbed his tired eyes, before looking the lad, a ball of barely contained energy, up and down. “I was quite lost in an enchanted forest when you found me, and want very much to return.”
The boy stood stunned and wide-eyed, not knowing how to react. At once, pleased to be acknowledged and miffed at being dismissed.
“Take a card and see me tomorrow. Office hours are on there. Goodnight.”