Death is not horror Living through someone’s death is Misery we fear Don’t cry for the dead Smile for life that has blossomed To die is to change Flower fades in time The blossom is… More
Read this creepy short story! It’s Blade Runner meets Minority Report meets Bradbury. Except it’s all PenPrin! My daughter wrote it and I’m jealous of her growing abilities!! You have snatched the pebble from my hand, Grasshopper!
Hello! I have something for my blog today that’s a bit different from what I usually post. I recently wrote a short sci-fi/horror story. I like stories that create a vast world of their own, yet are short and to the point and can stand on their own. Some of my favorite short stories are The Veldt, The Landlady, and The Tell-Tale Heart, and they were some of the inspirations for this story.
In the following story, there are several gore/blood mentions, so if you would be grossed out by that, this may not be for you. If you’re alright with reading something a little creepy, then without further ado, I present…
• Caroline’s Curiosities •
a short story by Lillian Maggio
He didn’t ever think he would find himself taking advantage of Caroline’s services, but due to unforeseen circumstances, he came to desire a new eye…
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It’s a day late. Wish I would have thought of this yesterday, but I was busy doing things for Father’s Day! lol Like infinite back scratchies and dinner prep! Laundry, cleaning, moving, crafting, writing. Ya know, the usual.
Thanks for being Lilli’s dad, Kacey Moe. She has a better one than I did and I’m glad I get to see it. ❤ I wouldn’t want anyone else for my child’s dad. Well. Maybe Mr. Rogers. But, come on! Don’t we all??
You spent the better part of your life without an example for fatherdom. So. Wow! You’re doing the best job without any experience or training! Impressive.
It’s mainly that you fill her with all the emotional things you knew you wanted and never had. That you teach her the lessons it took you so long to learn. That you read and sang to her every day. That you hugged and kissed her every night. That you prayed over her, poured over her like precious oil, crafted her, molded her, formed her so carefully. Like our Heavenly Father does with us. That you worked so hard to stay through difficult times. Thank you for being a wonderful parenting partner. I love you.
My husband usually draws himself in this style (featured pic). So I thought I would incorporate a doodle that looks like him. 🙂
My voice calls out.
My mind is fatal.
Lies of doubt.
End it all.
Would the world bother
To clean this wall?
Blood is forever.
Every drop leaves a mark.
It still stains
Even in the dark.
Every choice is hard.
Every life has healing.
Every morning has sun.
Every voice has meaning.
I could stop.
I could fall asleep.
Let darkness creep.
Fall in final leap.
Don’t waste it
Or let the ground taste it
After I faced it
I won’t erase it.
Suicide is a lie. A distraction. An obstacle to reaching the full potential of your human life, just before you achieve enlighment. It is a temptation to abandon all hope. It is an attempt to keep you trapped. But the test is enduring whatever comes next and learning from it. That’s the point from which to return. The very next step is the brilliant embrace of life itself and only good can come from that choice. Love doesn’t come from anyone. You’ll never be good enough. You will never have enough money. You have to love yourself anyway. Even though you don’t deserve it. Because no one does. Don’t you want to know what comes next? There are always options.
Money does not buy happiness.
A smile can’t stop the rain.
But when you’ve confronted the past,
You can smile through the pain.
A smile isn’t an umbrella.
Peace isn’t purchased with cash.
Happiness is burning down hate
And rising from the ash.
So take this fire,
And beat those wings.
Fan these flames.
Embrace the change it brings.
trampled and tired.
but in that weakness–
the tears come.
GRACE pours down over my head like oil.
lands softly on my shoulders like a dove.
i am saved.
revived, refined, redeemed, restored, renewed, reborn.
NIV 2 Corinthians 12
9 But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. 10 That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.
My daughter, Pencil Princess, drew these. I love them.
She does not like them (hates them), but said I could post them on my blog.
She did these in art class. The little girl is watching big sister smoke. Then in the next panel, as an older kid, she’s now smoking. Their faces are scratched out, but I love that. So, the little girl is wearing a cat dress and then she’s wearing a cat shirt to show progression of time. I love the exaggerated clouds of smoke and how the smoke lines up almost perfectly from panel to panel.
I forget, did you do that on purpose, PenPrin? Nice job. Love it.
Check out her creations on her blog. She’s really developing her illustration skills.
I still like this one. I wrote it for my dad.
I swing my legs from the swaying dock
Forgotten every one of my dwindling flock
I lay in fields of golden, wet, honey wheat
Drink down dew from low, golden clouds I meet
I run in those hidden dark, green trees
Places I learned to be what I please
Ravines littered with softly-fallen sins
Redeemed by desire, baptized by might-have-beens
Hay dangles through cracks and creaky joists
I break pains and panes with the ghosts of your voice
Pains of the past
Panes of glass
I fly kites with the ribs of those rotting, white windows
Catch hope with faith and sinewy minnows
Display truth and let it cool on open-sashed sills
Smoke the winnows and billows of dogged wills
Clear to the rafters of this old barn
And to the ragged fence posts on Used-to-be Farm
I love you.
Barefoot in the garden
Bathed in white moonlight
Glowing silver sandy shores
Nighttime birds in flight
Whispers and kisses
Wind and songs
High tide of love
Evaporation of wrongs
I love you.
Hooks and hay
Legs, arms, hair, feet
Pulleys and rope
Dangle like hope
From these loft floor cracks and old barn rafters
High on sunshine, shade and sugar
Soft difference between water and air
Swaying, yellow grass grazing the crisscrosses on my overalled back
I won’t touch this ground again with my pink toes
Only with my mind
If home is where the heart is
Then make yourself at home
I’ve got love enough for two
And this house was built to roam
So, pack your bags and leave with me
We’re headed out tonight
We won’t touch ground, never set down
You’ll be my endless flight
Wanderlust is natural
For any courageous heart
Love is a bit more difficult
Never going unless we start
Don’t worry where we’ll end
You’ll always have a place
As long as we’re together
This journey is not a race.