The Veil That Keeps Us Blissfully Unaware

If you missed this morning’s prompts post, I’m responding to Pulling Back the Veil.

For today’s images I spent my morning completely rebuilding my mirrorworld, and hanging a blue light curtain as my veil. I wrapped orange, green and white lights around two of my laundry basket hoops, one on top of the other, and nestled one of my hologram sticker cubes in the top loop. Then I hung a strand of blue lights across that scene. Both of my side mirrors are on ropes, so I can adjust their angles, and I switched the floor mirror to the larger of my new mirrors, and put the smaller at the front, so I have full range of distance without adjustment.

I am so glad I took the time to give my mirrorworld a complete overhaul because I feel the super-excitement again. I’m looking forward to spending my fall, winter, and spring discovering and creating in there. Here’s what it looks like now:

OctPoWriMo 2023: Facing Our Fears

Don’t Tell Me: I Don’t Want to Know

What if my reality is actually a delusion?
Has the cat trained me to do his bidding?
Are time travelers constantly changing my timeline?
This is the dimension I’m supposed to be in, right?

But what if everyone’s beliefs are wrong?
Love can’t just be a chemical reaction, can it?
If I died in this house, would he eat me (the cat)?
So what if we are just fleas on a universe-sized creature?
Should I be more worried about that cat?

dVerse Poets Pub

Today was Open Link Live at the pub. Sadly, it starts at noon here, which I am never ready for. (It also overlapped with ModPo today which I watched while I was working on the mirrorworld. It was a really good one from Scotland, discussing the beat poets). Anyway, you can link up any one of your poems on the site today, and there’s another chance to participate or listen-in to Open Link Live on Saturday.

Writober 2023

Logline: The head scientist in a secret germ warfare testing facility, finally finds a subject immune to the most deadly weapon he’s created, however he had never imagined how the subject might respond to surviving.

Here’s the opening to my story, “”Immunity”:

When I found the listing  to participate in an experiment to end germ warfare, I couldn’t believe my luck. I wouldn’t say I was exactly desperate for some income, but let’s just say, it had been too long since I had had any. I really didn’t like the idea of being experimented on, but what choice did I have? I mean when I went for the interview and was offered twenty thousand for a few hours work? Like I said, I didn’t have a choice. So I signed the papers.

No, I didn’t read them. Who does? All that useless legalese that you’re not supposed to understand anyway. Then I let them poke and prod me and told them my medical history, to the best of my ability. There really wasn’t much to tell: broke a couple bones as a kid, an appendectomy, also as a kid. Had all my shots, etc. Didn’t get COVID, but I don’t get out much, don’t feel the need to be social, so . . . Anyway, the big day of the experiment arrived. They warned me there was a possibility of complications, so I had to get my shit in order. I think they meant like a will and stuff. I didn’t have anyone to give my lack of stuff to, so I ignored that. I did leave a letter for my sister, and told my neighbor that if I wasn’t back in a few days to help herself to the fridge. She rolled her eyes like she always does, and puckered like I smell or something (which I might, to her).

Oh, right, so the big day came and I showed up on time for once, and everybody was all sweet and gave me a gorgeous breakfast with so much bacon, and fresh orange juice, and good coffee, I mean really good. And they offered me a cigar, but those make me sick, especially all full like that. And then I got really sleepy, like couldn’t keep my eyes open sleepy.

What did you find behind the veil?