Tourmaline .’s Halloween Challenge
Today’s prompt is Trick. So what new trick do I want to try today? Yesterday’s ideas of wisdom being connections of ideas inspired me to try sewing, typing with an old typewriter, and writing on transparencies. Then I thought about all the fun I had with inkblots, and tried making inkblots with acrylic paint on plastic filters.
It was a misty-moisty morning, so I tried hanging some lights under the deck. Then I hung some lights inside on the hearth. It was a fun morning exploring new tricks.
New Poem
Today’s theme is Collaborative Dreaming. The prompt is to write a poem describing a collective creative project I’ve worked on.
Today’s Poetics prompt is to write in the style of the Beat Generation. Sanaa challenges us to trust our first thought as best thought and play some word-jazz.
Every Morning Someone Shares
another picture, fuzzy and grainy
of the stranger slinking up the drive
sneaking behind gates,
rummaging through cars,
lurking on the porch
in the uninviting hour
around three am
a time that used to be magic
full of electric love
Three-o-eight, it’s getting late we’d say
when we would meet after our gigs
you with the boys, and me with the girls
before there was a band that was ours
in the city that let the bon temps
rouler from night into day into night
’til the glitter never washed off
even the expelled excess wafting
from the gutters didn’t dispel
the new song growing
as I made my way to work
in that community of creators
our small town in the big city
anything was possible for a while
sadly passion subsides
and all those deals came due
the Emperor of the Universe died
we finally broke and the levy did too
Now, at three-o-eight when
it’s well past late, I
have nowhere to be and hope
for no one to see
Writober Flash Fiction
Today’s image for inspiration is Heir of Fire Spoiler by May12324. This image has such beautiful colors and such creepy creatures. Here’s the beginning of my story, “Speaters in the Spirit Light”:
They’ve always been there. For as long as I can remember. They’re not pretty to look at, anyone else, if they could see them, would call them horrifying, but I’m used to their long, pointed, too-white teeth, claws as long and skinny as my legs, and dark holes like empty bottomless wells where eyes should be. If anyone else saw them they would scream forever like I did when Mom took me to the eldercare home where she works. But now they’re more like annoying dogs that the neighbors let run loose that follow you around yapping and nipping at your heels.
Maria L. Berg #Writober7 Day 4
I know they would reach in and reap my soul if they could. Every once in a while one will try, being either too brave, or naive. But along with being able to see them, I have the gift of light. Great Aunt Beatrice says it’s my spirit light, and whenever she senses the Speaters near—that’s what we call them, short for spirit eaters—she says, “Baby, you let that spirit light shine!”
It’s not easy to do.
Experience Writing 
That time in the morning has changed meaning a lot… maybe it relates to our aging but being awake at this time has more to do with insomnia than nocturnal magic.
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Such a poignant ending to an otherwise effervescent poem. I loved it though. It tugged at my heartstrings. If not for memories, we have nothing to call our own in this life.
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This is incredibly hard-hitting and poignant, Maria. I agree there was certainly a time period when it was sheer magic- the innocence, the simplicity and joy that poured out from every street and corner, now replaced by something that was unfathomable. We can only hope that state of affairs don’t become worse. Thank you so much for writing to the prompt💘
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There’s something about that time in the morning, Maria. I always wake up around three am – and then pretty much on the hour after that! Thankfully, there haven’t been any strangers lurking. I agree with Grace that the final stanza is tinged with sadness.
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That is a sad ending Maria. But it happens, turning magical moments to one of disappointment and despair.
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