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// Monday, November 28, 2011

Pondered a Pumpkin

On a rain-swept night in late September, in a field farthest from the farm, a plump little pumpkin pondered its fate—

The hour draws nigh and I worry,
What will become of me?

Am I to be the pride of someone's porch,
Or smashed to bits on a sidewalk?

Will the punkin chunkers pick me for my perfect shape,
Or will malcontents on Mischief Night turn me into a weapon?

Will I be carved by a master's hand,
Or maimed by greedy little paws?

Perhaps I'll be the featured pie at dessert,
Or the favorite flavor in a seasonal muffin basket.

Oh, to be the figurehead on a Grand Marshal's float, now that would be great! Or the fiery companion of a headless horseman, whose monologue climaxes with:

"Hear me, costumed fools, the witching hour has begun, and you must answer for your depravity, your reverie, and your mockery of All Hallows' Evening. Know this, my trembling little meat sacks, I shall cleave you with great fanfare and draw your spirits into the groaning abyss of my fleshless body. Aha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-haaaa!"

Yes, what a wonderful moment that would be.

But one thing that I try not to consider, though it's with me always, like a demon that cannot be exorcised, is this: If no one wants me, then what thoughts will consume me as I slowly rot in a muddy field?

 
About

This work is part of the Leftover Candy collection, which is a set of works inspired by the 2011 Halloween season.

© Copyright 2011 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.

This text composition is a work of fiction. Names, places, institutions, events, incidents, characters, persons, locations, and/or organizations either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Full Creative Writing Disclaimer.

// Sunday, November 27, 2011

Tipping Point

     While waiting at the end of a long, long line at a popular coffee shop during lunch hour, a masked and costumed avenger grew ever more disgusted with the whiny, self-important patrons complaining that the "service here is horrible," that they have "more important things to do than wait on a line," and that they "only get one lunch hour."

     The straw that broke the camel's back was a fat, designer-label flaunting, cell phone earpiece wearing "executive" who raised hell when his extra hot nonfat organic double whipped decaf macchiato with low calorie chocolate syrup drizzle and a light dusting of cinnamon was only moderately hot and heavily dusted (so claimed the snob).

     So, the avenger left the line and went to the restroom, where he used his super powers to make himself invisible and weightless, then transported himself to an area right above the baristas, and spent the remainder of the afternoon meting out justice on the insolent, the obnoxious, and the pretentious by changing their sugar to salt, milk to urine, decaf to caf, and whip cream to hemorrhoid cream.

     Later that night in the avenger's secret lair, the avenger stood beneath a skylight, gazed into the full Moon, replayed the events at the coffee shop, and concluded, "Sometimes justice leaves a bad taste in your mouth."

     The End

 
About

Don't we all long to be this costumed avenger? (At least once in our lives.)

This work is part of the Leftover Candy collection, which is a set of works inspired by the 2011 Halloween season.

© Copyright 2011 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.

This text composition is a work of fiction. Names, places, institutions, events, incidents, characters, persons, locations, and/or organizations either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Full Creative Writing Disclaimer.

Tendrils 14: Tendrils, Flash Fiction, and Other Orbits

Basking in the orange glow of thirteen identical Jack-o-Lanterns, a tabby cat fantasized about being the dreaded black cat of a wicked witch, living in a dilapidated, bug infested, and moss laced cabin secluded deep within an alligator ladened swamp, instead of being owned by superficial yuppies and sprawled out on their designer couch in an overpriced penthouse in a noisy metropolis.

 

Georgina, the friendly, free-spirited ghost, was so excited that Halloween had finally arrived, that she danced a happy little dance for all to see.

Every ghoul loved it, except for Victor, because he was an amorphous ectoplasmic blob with no sense of rhythm.

 

How can you turn as "white as a ghost" when your heart is as "black as night"?

 

When the leaves change and begin to fall, so do the spirits of many.

And only the green of spring can rescue them from their funk.

 

M.O.N.S.T.E.R. — Malevolent. Odorous. Nasty. Sinister. Tempestuous. Evil. Rude.

 

What do you call a young, attractive female ghost that only dates rich, old male ghosts?

Ghoul-diggers!

 

What do ghosts wear as camouflage?

Drapes!

 

How do you tell the difference between a boy pumpkin and a girl pumpkin?

The boy pumpkin is the one with the stem!

 
About

A mixed bag of text: Two flash fiction pieces, two reflections, a backronym, and a few jokes (including one a bit blue).

This work is part of the Leftover Candy collection, which is a set of works inspired by the 2011 Halloween season.

© Copyright 2011 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.

This text composition is a work of fiction. Names, places, institutions, events, incidents, characters, persons, locations, and/or organizations either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Full Creative Writing Disclaimer.

Hallo'wee Collage

Hallo'wee Collage (c) Copyright 2011 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved. insilentpassage.com

 
About

"Hallo'wee Collage" contains personal photographs (processed, remixed, rebuilt), doodles, sketches, fragments, and shadows.

This work is part of the Leftover Candy collection, which is a set of works inspired by the 2011 Halloween season.

© Copyright 2011 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.

// Thursday, November 24, 2011

Just for Fun 3: Awaken to the Possibilities

Just for Fun 3: Awaken to the Possibilities (c) Copyright 2011 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved. insilentpassage.com

One need not say "yes" in order to know what is possible, nor say "no" to express what is unacceptable.

© Copyright 2011 Christopher V. DeRobertis. All rights reserved.

// Friday, November 11, 2011