Last Trifecta


A chorus of silent voices,

joining in harmony around the globe.

Embracing passion,

creating relationships,

making friends.

We placed a bet on the Trifecta,

wagered everything we had.

We all came in first.



(image credit:

Written for the last ever Trifecta challenge – 33 words of our own choosing.  It saddens me that the doors to the Trifecta lounge will be closing but I am thankful for the friends I have made in that lounge.  Thank you to the creators of Trifecta for giving us the opportunity to hone our skills and choose our words wisely.  And thank you for creating a community that will live on in our newly developed friendships.

Is there a right way to write?


When I began to really delve into writing poetry and short stories I was more comfortable writing in long hand.  It freed my mind to truly compose the ideas, the rhymes and the drama, and felt much more like a natural flow from brain to hand to ink to paper.  The archaic version of computers we had at that point did not lend much ease in the writing experience since it was a behemoth that was no more moveable than my car.

In the bygone days of my youth (I make myself sound 100 years old), when I began to read voraciously, I would always have a pen and paper handy to write down any words I found challenging and words that I was excited to use in my writing.  It went on for pages.  I still have those pages and, although they are now collecting dust in a storage bin, they still remind me of my hunger for words.  My hunger now is much more easily satiated.  With the ease of Google, on-line dictionaries and thesauruses I no longer have to put the word to paper and look it up in a bound, hard-cover dictionary.  I even have a dictionary in my Kindle should the need arise to define a foreign word.

Nowadays, I’m sure a chimpanzee would have much more success with that foreign writing object we call a pen.  I used to have beautiful handwriting and now the things that come out of the pen slightly resemble a modified version of shorthand.  (It would be far more beneficial for me if it were shorthand since I currently have no clue what I’ve written!)


(photo courtesy of

With the ease of the digital age I use a voice recorder if I am overcome with inspiration.  Random thoughts that used to be scribbled on scraps of paper are now stored in my phone for easy access.  My calendar is on my iPhone and so is my shopping list.  Even with my creative stream, that long steady flow of blue ink has been replaced by the gentle tapping of the keyboard on my laptop.  I have finally been able to train my mind to tune out the incessant clicking and it no longer derails my train of thought.

What do you do?  Do you still give the ink a chance or are you a slave to your keyboard?

The wall remains the same – Trifecta Challenge


My desires lay buried under a shroud of mistrust.

My resolve, firm.

Hidden feelings will be anchored there.

Not even the strongest of wills can worm the truth from me.

The walls remain.


Written for this week’s Trifecta Challenge: Now on to the weekly challenge.  Remember, we’re now looking for exactly 33 words.
Good luck and happy writing!

WORM (transitive verb)

1a :  to proceed or make (one’s way) insidiously or deviously<worm their way into positions of power     — Bill Franzen>
 :  to insinuate or introduce (oneself) by devious or subtle means
 :  to cause to move or proceed in or as if in the manner of a worm
:  to wind rope or yarn spirally round and between the strands of (a cable or rope) before serving

- See more at:

You better run – 100 word song


You came unannounced.  You stealthily crept into my head and strategically built your wall in the darkest confines where I couldn’t see you.  Like a thief, you stole my ideas.  You banished any character from entering my thought process and you murdered my will to write.

But I’m on to you.  I’ve seen the ugliness in your soul.  Your darkness is no match for the light that words provide.  My will to create is much stronger than your effort to suppress my creativity.

I enter each day more prepared than the next.  If I see you again, you better run.


Written for the 100-Word-Song challenge at My Blog Can Beat Up Your Blog.   This week’s song – You Better Run by Pat Benatar.

The Voice Within – Trifecta Challenge



The Angel and the Devil sat on opposite shoulders spewing arguments around the head that separated them.

“I know I am the reason for her funk, and I’m quite proud of that fact.”  The Devil crossed his arms and a smug smile crept over his peeling lips.

“But it’s awful watching her frustration swell to the boiling point.  Can’t you ease up a little?”  The Angel’s plea fell on deaf ears.  The Devil was quite adept at tuning her out.

Without warning, the shoulders of the host body began to rotate.  Her arms reached forward, her fingers entwined and she stretched.  Her fingertips touched the keyboard and the Angel stood to watch.  Something magical happened and the Angel merely observed as the words began to etch themselves onto the screen.  A little squeal of glee escaped her lips as she turned to stick her tongue out at the Devil.

Now the Devil felt the frustration.  He stood and was about to embed his pitchfork into the side of the head when the Angel cried out.

“Don’t do it.  She’s writing about us!”

The Angel continued to smile as the Devil flipped her off.  They both took a seat on their rightful shoulder and let the creativity happen.


Written for this week’s Trifecta Challenge.  I have been in a writing funk of my own the last few days and after reading a comment by Ad-libb3d at 4:00 am, the lightbulb slowly began to shine again!!

(image credit:

Now onto this week’s Trifecta prompt. We’re back to one word, its third definition and the 33-333 word limit.

Happy Writing!

FUNK (noun)
1 a :  a state of paralyzing fear
b :  a depressed state of mind
2 :  one that funks :  COWARD
3 :  SLUMP  <an economic funk>  <the team went into a funk>
- See more at:

The hamster on the wheel goes round and round…um, he’s dead Jim.


I have so many things that I want to say but none of those thoughts are willing to take the leap from my brain to my fingertips.  Writer’s block has built itself into an unending concrete wall and suffocated the hamster powering my thought wheel.

I have had these moments before, days when my brain was completely blank but, now as those days keep accumulating, I feel the weight of the winter blahs settling in and that feeling is compounding my lack of enthusiasm for writing and reading blogs.

I am determined to make my presence known in your blogs, once again, and reap the rewards of your diligence in your blog posting.

I need to feel the warmth of the spring sun on my face to revitalize my brain.  Mother Nature…..I hope you are reading this!!

What do you do when you have writer’s block?

Monty Writeon’s – The Meaning of Blog


meaning of life

(Image credit: Monty Python)

Part I – The Miracle of Birth

The conception of my blog was, indeed, immaculate.  It was unprotected and unplanned but, once it was miraculously born, it brought great joy to my life.  I have nourished it, fed it and loved it.  Its incessant need has brought many sleepless nights but the rare moments that it smiles at me make the bags under my eyes worthwhile.  I have held it close to my heart and have had moments that I wish it would sleep through the night and let me get some much-needed rest.

I have used many tricks to make it laugh and have relished the moments that it brought a smile to my face or a tear to my eye.  I have suffered through its teething and those many moments that nothing I did would make it happy.  Through its toddler phase we had a great deal of fun together, learning about each other as we spent more time together.  I watched it learn to walk and then to run.  I soothed its scrapes and cuts when it fell but, through all the tumultuous growing pains, we forged a bond that cannot be replaced.

Part II – Growth and Learning

Over the past year and a half I have watched it grow and mature.  I have seen it develop a personality and gain some independence.  But its need for me and my attention seems to be waning.  It seems to have rapidly entered its teenage years before my eyes.  It has become sullen and withdrawn.  We don’t spend much time together these days.

I get up early to go to work and can’t find the time needed to spend with it in those rising hours of the morning.  I have been working more split shifts recently and when I come home for my break it is lying on the couch, having accomplished nothing on its own during my absence. When I attempt to create some lasting moments with it in the afternoons, it ignores me and does not react to my efforts.

I can only hope in the near future that the negative teenage reaction will subside and, as a young adult does with their parents, we form a new alliance and become friends again.  I miss spending time with it and miss creating the words and phrases that we would carve into our reality.  With a little more effort on my part, I’m sure I can find that one common thread that will bring us back together again.  I put my faith in its capacity to grow and mature and its ability to accept the fact that I, too, have my limitations.

And the words shall set us free.

Her chosen path – Trifecta Challenge


The decision made so long ago,

for her child to be given a better life.

She watched her from a distance,

hidden in plain sight.

Never being her mother, only a vague reflection.


(image credit: Thomas Leuthard)


Written for the Trifecta Challenge – On to this week’s Trifextra challenge.  This week we’re asking for 33 of your own words inspired by the following picture.  If you use the picture on your  blog, you MUST give proper attribution to the photographer by providing a link to the photo, not just to Trifecta.  Failure to comply will eliminate you from the challenge.

Good luck and have fun with it!

What lies beyond – Trifecta Challenge



Audrey had driven by the building countless times and was always drawn to its beauty.  Today she could resist the urge no longer.   After parking her car across the street from the house, she made her way up the walkway to the front door. She knocked and was greeted warmly by a man with a charming smile and a slight frosting of grey hair at his temples.

She introduced herself and explained to the man how often she thought of this place.  There was no plausible explanation for her longing to see the inside and she was hopeful that he would forgive her intrusion.  His voice was almost ethereal as he welcomed her into his home.

The inside was just as lovely as Audrey had imagined.  Hard-wood floors spanned each room and the decor was pristine.  The fire was roaring in the fireplace which lent a diffused scent of acrid smoke to the air.  There was another odor lingering underneath but she couldn’t readily identify its essence.

The entire house was breathtaking.  Each room was decorated beautifully, boasting warm colors and tones, but even amongst those warms colors Audrey could not ignore the slight chill she felt.   Following him up the winding stairway, they made their way to the top floor of the house.  She was shown the door to what she anticipated to be the most quaint room in the house – the Widow’s Watch.  He was behind her now and slowly pushed the door open so she could enter.  The movement of the door seemed to trigger the motion light and she stared blankly at the black cavern in front of her.

His voice startled her back to reality.  “We’ve been waiting for you.”

His hand found the small of her back and he shoved Audrey into the chamber.  The door closed and she heard the lock engage.  The other smell that had plagued her was now overwhelming enough for her to identify.  It was decomposition.   Audrey screamed.


328 words written for the Trifecta Challenge to use the word “quaint” and, as always, the third definition of the word.
QUAINT (adjective)

1:  obsolete:  EXPERT, SKILLED
2a:  marked by skillful design <quaint with many a device in India
ink — Herman Melville>
b:  marked by beauty or elegance
3a : unusual or different in character or appearance :  ODD
  b : pleasingly or strikingly old-fashioned or unfamiliar <a quaint

• Your response must be between 33 and 333 words.
• You must use the 3rd definition of the given word in your post.
• The word itself needs to be included in your response.
• You may not use a variation of the word; it needs to be exactly as stated above.
• Only one entry per writer.
• If your post doesn’t meet our requirements, please leave your link in the comments section, not in the linkz.
• Trifecta is open to everyone. Please join us.

Newly coined medical terms


As some of you know from reading my last few posts, I came down with a nasty case of Pneumonia over the holidays and have been feeling the brunt of it for three weeks.  It had me feeling so fatigued that I could barely find the energy to write those posts, let alone read anyone else’s work.  I apologize if I have been noticeably absent and will rectify that tout de suite!

Today I went to my regular GP for a follow-up to see how my lungs were progressing after 10 days of taking horrifically strong pills that leave a metal aftertaste for hours.  Since I initially went to a walk-in clinic, my GP listened to my back story and listened to my lungs.   She gave me the good news that my lungs sound great and, after the last set of iron shavings I have to ingest today (pharmaceutically known as Biaxin), I am finally on the mend!!


During the course of my regaling her with my intermittent trips to the office while sick with Pneumonia she laid down a few newly appointed medical terms.  The first freshly coined phrase from the Hippocratic Oath handbook was hurled at me and I was called an “idiot”.  This is a much shorter version of the 19th Century diagnosis that was identified as a “profound intellectual disability”.

Approaching with caution, I also mentioned the number of times I had been to the office and out in public during my illness and I was then diagnosed as “stupid”.  I have since examined a medical journal a little more closely and found this analysis of my symptoms to be defined as Faecal Encephalopathy – roughly translated means “shit for brains”.

There are no known antibiotics to cure my medical symptoms but I have faith that I will overcome the manifestation of these new syndromes and bounce back to my old self very soon!