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Dusty ole Doll

Found this dusty little doll up in the attic, and remembered. Stories! Found them all crumpled, deteriorated, half moth-eaten, the fluff of her soul. “Let’s start this again,” she whispered, her voice tart and moldy. I liked her. “Sure, why not?” I embraced her. And then a silly thing. A weird thing. Unreal. It happened. Perhaps she simply disintegrated in my grasp, but I could swear – I still feel the itch – that she diffused into my skin. I feel different now. Confident. Inspired. (Hell, I look different, too (see above)) Or maybe that’s just the irradiated half-caff, half-nuked, pure toxic get-up-and-go drink festering in my gut. Whether or what, there’s gonna be some changes going on around this old joint. 1. I declare myself the dictator of my own realm. Muah ha ha haaaaaa 2. I declare a thumb war! 3. I do declare that I will post more often. Creatively. (Or not) 4. And I will try not to...

Latest Challenge Winner – Tantra Bensko

Tantra Bensko wins! . Write about the Witching Hour -by Tantra Bensko . . Midnight came and went many times today. I have never experienced this before. I knew no one was looking when I started turning my head around like an owl to see all the midnights lining up around me. One started speaking to me. Come. Come this way. Another started speaking. Come this way! It was like when my husband and I would spin our son around on a swivel chair and then both call him to run to us in different directions, and watch him fall over. Midnight was playing. And so it was time. Time for something. A little test of what different possibilities could be like in different repeating times. I gave myself a kiss. On the arm. I petted my ankle. I caressed my face. All in different midnights. I was trying to learn to remember what it was like to feel adored, touched because of being beautiful. My only option was myself. If I did something nice for my skin in many midnights at once, would there come a point at which all of them would hit me simultaneously? I liked the linearity of the repetition, but am a big fan of the non linear. And being touched sweetly all at once in many places by myself was sounding really fun. I ran my hand through my hair. I pulled my toes. I felt along the line of my hip, with my hand cupped, feeling the tautness of the shape. I traced the edges of my lips. I felt so loved, and had been so lonely for long, longing for touch, I was ecstatic when suddenly, all the midnights I had just participated in collapsed in on themselves from the weight, and I became like a Picasso painting. All directions at...

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