Really loved the grittiness of the first poem, taking something that normally brings a sense of wonder, awe and joy into something grim and cynical (and I’m not even really the biggest fan of that style of storytelling). So great job there.
The clock one was eerie as heck, but I loved it. I kind of interpreted it as if the clock turned sentient. Amazing work all around. Faved to reference as inspiration later
Very nicely done, Sumojo. Time is definitely going to betray us when we turn the clocks back on Sunday, and we lose an hour's sleep. I don't know if you have that in Australia. I really wish they would discontinue it here.
When I was a child, we lived rural and no one actually prepared or celebrated Halloween except the classroom in the school. Or, if you lived in a town.
When my children were in school it was a time when suddenly Halloween was a time to beware of what children might find in their Treat bags, if they went trick or treating. As the children grew, we were more likely to buy them a bag of candy then take them into a nearby town to trick or treat.
Halloween for some people is just for fun. For me I basically just ignore it.
I am going to be 80 next March and I can hardly believe it, fortunately I have very good health and I don't take that lightly. Your comments are inspiring, thank you.
If I could use my mobile phone I would phone my Mum, she would be amazed to hear about the future she missed, mobile phones and the Internet. Secondly I would phone my Sister in law and tell her about her children and how they have grown up and are happy. Also I'd love to hear my dog Nacho bark or give me a cuddle just one more time.
It's complex this death and dying business. I'm not so much concerned about being dead I think it's the process that's a little worrisome.
My Grandad died in his sleep and that's the way I would like to go.
Use these words in your entry today: magical, harpschord, eventful, occasional, minstrel, clowns, and emergency vehicles.
Even though I live out of the city, the sound of emergency vehicles can often be heard racing up the highway. We’ve lived here in this quiet hillside town for over forty years. Once upon a time this was an un eventful place with perhaps the occasional police car zipping past chasing a stupid people acting like clowns, speeding in our 60 kilometre zone.
The town holds its own carnival each year with a minstrel or two playing the harpsichord on the street and the mayor dressed up and handing out sweets to the children. It transforms our town into a magical place where the townspeople can believe, just for a day, that we’ve stepped back in time to how our lives were in a different era.
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