Microscopic Monsters

🔗Post contains Amazon associate links (shown with Aal in parentheses)
🔗Links in the Table of Contents are Jump links to each of the challenges to navigate easily to the prompt of your interest: OctPoWriMo for poetry; Writober Flash Fiction for flash fiction; Halloween Photography Challenge for photography
🐦‍⬛Example poems are copied here for educational purposes.
🖼️I made these banners from my photos and free for commercial use fonts. Feel free to use them in your posts.

🎃OctPoWriMo 🦇Writober Flash Fiction 👻Halloween Photography Challenge

Today’s Theme: Parasites/Microscopic Monsters

The thing about microscopic monsters that’s so scary is by the time we know they’re there, they have already moved in and turned our body into a replication machine. We have no idea we’ve become a host until our poor cells are fighting back. And by then we feel too horrible to do much about it.

Parasites, viruses, bacteria, there’s a world of unseen monsters just waiting for a yummy human to wander by. They are horrible monsters that do a lot of damage, but under the microscope they are quite fascinating.

You might find some inspiration at the Virtual Microscopy museum.

As writers and artists we spend a lot of time looking at things more closely. We may not be looking through a microscope, but we are trying out different lenses. In The Poet’s Companion(Aal) by Kim Addonizio and Dorianne Laux there is an entire chapter on appositives. Appositives are words or groups of words that sit next to another noun (noun phrase) renaming or explaining it.

In their example, they start with “My grandmother”
The first noun appositive is “My grandmother, Stella”
then they add a noun phrase appositive “My grandmother, Stella, a tiny woman with long white hair and the face of a Botticelli angel”

Addonizio and Laux say, “Appositives are a way to say more, to go further in the implications of your thought or the details of your memory or experience. They’re a way of digging in, a process of discovery at the level of syntax (sentence structure).”

OctPoWriMo

In poetry, an entire poem can be a series of appositives trying to get to the microscopic detail that will finally make something clear. Try some appositives as microscopic lenses.

Example Poem:  “Fear” by Khalil Gibran from YourDailyPoem 

Fear

It is said that before entering the sea
a river trembles with fear.

She looks back at the path she has traveled,
from the peaks of the mountains,
the long winding road crossing forests and villages.

And in front of her,
she sees an ocean so vast,
that to enter
there seems nothing more than to disappear forever.

But there is no other way.
The river can not go back.

Nobody can go back.
To go back is impossible in existence.

The river needs to take the risk
of entering the ocean
because only then will fear disappear,
because that’s where the river will know
it’s not about disappearing into the ocean,
but of becoming the ocean.

~Khalil Gibran

Prompt: Write a poem about something that becomes part of something else, like a river becomes part of the ocean, or a parasite becomes part of its host.

Possible form: A contrapunctal poem

Writober Flash Fiction Challenge

Day Twelve Image

Click on the link and take a look at the image. How might this image relate to today’s theme? Write a piece of flash fiction, anything from a six-word story to 999 words. Feel free to bring in the OctPoWriMo prompt and the Photography Challenge prompt, anything that inspires your story.

Halloween Photography Challenge

Thank you so much for joining me for this year’s October challenges. Remember to support each other by visiting and commenting on as many links as you can as we explore our Deepest Fears in anticipation of Halloween.

If you enjoy these posts and the work I do here, please head to my buymeacoffee page and show your support! Thank you so much. Every bit helps keep this site going.

Music to get us moving:

A Head of Snakes

🔗Links in the Table of Contents are Jump links to my responses to each of the challenges
🐦‍⬛This is original work created by Maria L. Berg and this post counts as copyright. All rights reserved.

Head Full of Snakes by Maria L. Berg 2025

🎃OctPoWriMo 🦇Writober Flash Fiction 👻Halloween Photography Challenge

Today’s Theme: Gorgons

These are my responses to the prompt post for Day 11 of Writober: Don’t Look Her in the Eye

OctPoWriMo

Monsters I Don’t Meet

My neighborhood is full of monsters
I hear them all the time
The pirate ghosts’ loud music
thumps and thumps all night
as they surf their ship’s wake
in the glimmering moonlight.
The werewolves gather in one yard
and bark and bark all day
pretending to be real dogs
whose people are away.
The mad scientist has so many creatures
that he wants to build
that’s why he’s always drilling
saw, saw, saw, drill, drill, drill.
The vampire who has a security light
on only during the day
is always leaf-blowing his roof
I guess to keep his landing area clear.
The lake spirit taps at the windows
she leaves wet footprints
as she drips up the dock
she’s hungry and can’t get warm.
And death loiters in the bushes
I hear him in the wind
I didn’t care that he was in there
but then he took the cat
and won’t give him back.
I’ve never seen or met them
It’s not a friendly kind of place
We all keep to ourselves, but
I lock the door to keep them out
just in case.

Writober Flash Fiction Challenge

The Game

The gorgon’s playing field has fallen into disrepair. She got tired of the hypocrisy of her worshipers clapping and cheering when she bowled over the last one she turned to stone and it fell and shattered on the stone yard. So she turned them all to stone. She quickly realized, however, that once all of her worshipers were statues, there was no one to clean up her mess. The game was no longer fun when the bits of statue were left all over. Some bits from their centers that weren’t completely stone rotted and stank. Birds and other scavengers began to gather to feed on the rotting guts, and they left their own stinky messes. It was unpleasant. And no one gathered the balls she threw, so if she wanted to continue playing, she would have to slither after them through the mess and smell, and that didn’t appeal to her. She went inside, closed the door and imagined that some day more worshipers would arrive and clean up the mess to appease her. She would try not to turn them into statues as quickly as this batch.

Halloween Photography Challenge

For today’s images I wanted to capture the fear of the gorgon: snakes too close to the face, and being turned to stone. I enjoyed the results I got from my cut-paper filter capturing the deadly beauty of snakes and gorgons.

Fear of Snakes by Maria L. Berg 2025

Don’t Look Her in the Eye

🔗Post contains Amazon associate links (shown with Aal in parentheses)
🔗Links in the Table of Contents are Jump links to each of the challenges to navigate easily to the prompt of your interest: OctPoWriMo for poetry; Writober Flash Fiction for flash fiction; Halloween Photography Challenge for photography
🐦‍⬛Example poems are copied here for educational purposes.
🖼️I made these banners from my photos and free for commercial use fonts. Feel free to use them in your posts.

🎃OctPoWriMo 🦇Writober Flash Fiction 👻Halloween Photography Challenge

Today’s Theme: Snakes/Gorgons

Gorgons are scary for lots of reasons: they have snakes for hair, and if they catch your eye, you’ll turn to stone. When we think of the fear response, we think of fight or flight as our possible responses, but there’s another possible fear response: freeze—not being able to do anything at all.

Imagine being turned into a statue. You can’t move. You can’t turn your head. All you can do is observe what is directly in front of you.

As writers reframing our point of view, and working within limiting constraints can help spur creative ideas.

Quick framing exercise: Cut a two inch square in a piece of cardboard the size of your face. Hold this square in front of you (about a foot from your nose) and observe what’s right in front of you for five minutes. What did you notice? How was observing through your frame different from how you usually observe?

OctPoWriMo

When writing poetry, we employ many self-imposed constraints. Poetic forms each have their own constraints: syllables per line, stresses and feet per line, rhyme scheme, repetitions, etc. In a lipogram the constraint is to not use a letter through the whole poem, or to only use one vowel. We use constraints to decide how we’re going to break our lines: enjambment or end stops. We use constraints to decide how we’ll break our stanzas: couplets, tercets, quatrains, etc.

Any rule or constraint we make up for ourselves while writing or revising a poem is a way of reframing how we think about a topic. The poet Bernadette Mayer made a huge list she calls writing experiments. (You may have to sign up for ModPo to view this, but it’s free and I highly recommend it).

Example Poem: “Monsters I’ve Met” by Shel Silverstein from Poems Dead and Undead(Aal)

Monsters I’ve Met

I met a ghost, but he didn’t want my head,
He only wanted to know the way to Denver.
I met a devil, but he didn’t want my soul,
He only wanted to borrow my bike awhile.
I met a vampire, but he didn’t want my blood,
He only wanted tow nickles for a dime.
I keep meeting all the right people—
At all the wrong times.

~Shel Silverstein

Prompt: Who are the monsters in your neighborhood? The monsters that you meet, while you’re walking down the street each day? What mundane things might these monsters do, or ask you for?

Possible form: Couplets (stanzas of two lines)-Write a poem in couplets where the first line is that of expectation and the second line is what actually happened. Or the first line is the human voice and the second is the response of a monster.

Writober Flash Fiction Challenge

Day Eleven Image

Click on the link and take a look at the image. How might this image relate to today’s theme? Write a piece of flash fiction, anything from a six-word story to 999 words. Feel free to bring in the OctPoWriMo prompt and the Photography Challenge prompt, anything that inspires your story.

Halloween Photography Challenge

Thank you so much for joining me for this year’s October challenges. Remember to support each other by visiting and commenting on as many links as you can as we explore our Deepest Fears in anticipation of Halloween.

If you enjoy these posts and the work I do here, please head to my buymeacoffee page and show your support! Thank you so much. Every bit helps keep this site going.

Tech Takeover

🔗Links in the Table of Contents are Jump links to my responses to each of the challenges
🐦‍⬛This is original work created by Maria L. Berg and this post counts as copyright. All rights reserved.

Glitchy by Maria L. Berg 2025

🎃OctPoWriMo 🦇Writober Flash Fiction 👻Halloween Photography Challenge

Today’s Theme: Tech

These are my responses to the prompt post for Day 10 of Writober: They Said it Would Make Our Lives Easier

OctPoWriMo

Compulsory Convenience

they say you’ll never get lost
as they track your every move
predicting what you want to say
with another embarrassing word
so quick to send your message
and receive from countless frauds
every answer at your fingertips
and its contradictions and flaws
evidence for everything
including every fiction
so stand in line for hours for
the latest and the greatest
that must be replaced with
the latest and greatest every year

Writober Flash Fiction Challenge

Core Calculations

I must have gotten turned around in the tunnel. I didn’t hear you ahead of me and found myself sliding down instead of climbing. The tight tunnel opened into a vast cavern, empty except for a large stone glowing green in the center. A giant figure in a stone-colored hooded robe sat in its glow, typing with long bony fingers.

I tried to sneak closer to see what was on the screen. My steps echoed loudly. The figure stopped typing, but only for a moment. “A visitor,” he said, not turning around. “You may approach.”

“Excuse me,” I said. “Could you tell me which is the way out? I seem to have gotten turned around.”

“I wish I could. That’s what this machine has been trying to calculate for a thousand years. A way out.”

Halloween Photography Challenge

For today’s images I played with the glitches I found on Day two. I put some strands of steel wool on plastic as a filter and took the pictures on the HDR Painting: High setting.

Technical Problems
by Maria L. Berg 2025

They Said It Would Make Our Lives Easier

🔗Post contains Amazon associate links (shown with Aal in parentheses)
🔗Links in the Table of Contents are Jump links to each of the challenges to navigate easily to the prompt of your interest: OctPoWriMo for poetry; Writober Flash Fiction for flash fiction; Halloween Photography Challenge for photography
🐦‍⬛Example poems are copied here for educational purposes.
🖼️I made these banners from my photos and free for commercial use fonts. Feel free to use them in your posts.

🎃OctPoWriMo 🦇Writober Flash Fiction 👻Halloween Photography Challenge

Today’s Theme: Fear of Robots and Technology

Fear of Robots and technology includes all of the fears of inanimate objects coming alive especially puppets and dolls, but also includes fear of change and fear of the unknown. With technology constantly changing, it’s easy to feel we’re constantly out of control, constantly behind the times. We’re constantly being told that these new technologies are for our convenience and will make our lives easier, but we are no longer given many choices when it comes to whether or not we want to implement them. They just happen and we have to adapt, change, and learn. When a technology is forced upon us, is it a convenience or an annoyance?

However, there are positive and negative aspects to most new technologies. As writers, it’s amazing to have the world of research at our fingertips. And so many options of word processing, dictionaries, and encyclopedias. Sites like Rhymezone make finding fun options for exact and slant rhymes easy. And we have constant learning opportunities through online classes, ebooks, and streaming documentaries.

When I was working on a sci-fi novel, I took a series of courses in the Futures Thinking concentration through Institute for the Future on Coursera.org. The courses provide exercises for using signals in the present to imagine futures that we would like to live in instead of the imagined hellscapes we see in most sci-fi futures.

You may find inspiration at the MIT Museum Robot Exhibit

OctPoWriMo

One thing that robots and computers are good at is recognizing patterns and repetitive actions. Metered poetry is also based on repetition and variation. The Sonnet, one of the most enduring forms for centuries, was one of the first forms to become predominantly written.

It became popular because it is an argument between the poet and herself. The first part of the poem presents an idea, then the poem has a turn (the volta, usually started with the word but or yet) and then the rest of the poem refutes the beginning. In the Shakespearean sonnet or English sonnet the poem is then summed up in a final rhyming couplet.

Any poem can be read as an argument between the poet and himself, exploring an idea from all angles; arguing that the unanswerable can be answered through poetic exploration.

Example Poem: “Time does not bring relief; you have lied” by Edna St. Vincent Millay from Poetry Foundation.

Time does not bring relief; you have lied

Time does not bring relief; you all have lied
Who told me time would ease me of my pain!
I miss him in the weeping of the rain;
I want him at the shrinking of the tide;
The old snows melt from every mountain-side,
And last year’s leaves are smoke in every lane;
But last year’s bitter loving must remain
Heaped on my heart, and my old thoughts abide.
There are a hundred places where I fear
To go,—so with his memory they brim.
And entering with relief some quiet place
Where never fell his foot or shone his face
I say, “There is no memory of him here!”
And so stand stricken, so remembering him.

~Edna St. Vincent Millay

Are these rhymes unique or clever? How has the poet turned these common phrases so they aren’t cliché?

Prompt: Write a poem arguing that a common saying is a lie, or that the way a new technology has been sold to the public was a lie.

Possible form: Sonnet (Shakespearean or Petrarchan)

Writober Flash Fiction Challenge

Day Ten Image

Click on the link and take a look at the image. How might this image relate to today’s theme? Write a piece of flash fiction, anything from a six-word story to 999 words. Feel free to bring in the OctPoWriMo prompt and the Photography Challenge prompt, anything that inspires your story.

Halloween Photography Challenge

Thank you so much for joining me for this year’s October challenges. Remember to support each other by visiting and commenting on as many links as you can as we explore our Deepest Fears in anticipation of Halloween.

If you enjoy these posts and the work I do here, please head to my buymeacoffee page and show your support! Thank you so much. Every bit helps keep this site going.

Music to get us moving:

The Strange Visitor

🔗Links in the Table of Contents are Jump links to my responses to each of the challenges
🐦‍⬛This is original work created by Maria L. Berg and this post counts as copyright. All rights reserved.

Possession by Maria L. Berg 2025

🎃OctPoWriMo 🦇Writober Flash Fiction 👻Halloween Photography Challenge

Today’s Theme: Possession

These are my responses to the prompt post for Day 9 of Writober: From the Depths of Hell

OctPoWriMo

It’s Open Link Night (OLN #393) at dVerse Poets Pub. You can link up one poem on any topic, or respond to Lisa’s prompt to be inspired by a quote from a banned book, or write about book banning.

The Battle for This Being

Within the skin a battle rages—invisible
violence between forces unseen
nagging voices weighing choices
daily torment the price of being
beware the judges beware the accusers
beware the namers, the first to point out fault

Every good I’ve known redefines

Those who would say their lies are truth
Those who tell all to fear and not disagree
Want to be the good guys so the bad
need to be their opposite
with no intent to better themselves
truth must be wrong, and honesty, intelligence
loving your neighbor as yourself
curiosity, other languages and cultures

Every good I’ve known redefines

An innocent will not know evil
when it comes, will only expect
the good in all she meets
She feels every possible wrong
in her nerves like a pinch and chooses
against pain, always against pain

Every good I’ve known redefines

Writober Flash Fiction Challenge

An Unexpected Guest

I don’t really remember when it happened. He just appeared at the edge of my breakfast table while I ate my toast and jam. His wings were white so I took him for my guardian angel at first, though other than his white feathers, I was afraid to look at him closely. He smelled subtly of smoke and rotting eggs. I thought be might take some of the quiet out of the morning, but he didn’t say anything. I offered him food, but he did not eat anything. I was no longer hungry with him staring at me, so I cleaned up my dishes and when I came back to the table, he was gone. 

I decided he was a leftover dream, that I had not been quite awake, but the next morning he appeared again. I dared to look at him. He had red pupils in yellow eyes. I felt a chill in my bones and the pain in my stomach grew sharper. The white was painted over his dark bald head and manish face as if the white was a disguise. This time when I took my dishes away, he hissed. I was glad that when I turned back he was gone. After that hiss, I felt like I was being judged. I began sifting through my recent thoughts and deeds. What could I have possibly done? I barely leave my house anymore. I don’t bother anyone. I’m not in debt to anyone. 

The months, the terrible long months of Erin’s illness. I would have said and done anything for her to get better. An I did in my mind. I made every prayer, every bargain, to anyone who would listen. She told me to stop, to let her go. To save my soul to join her, but though I joined her at church and did everything she asked of me. I never really believed, not really. When I miss her, I picture her in the ground rotting, turning to bones. But that was then. I don’t know what all I said, but I never invited some winged man-headed creature to join me at my breakfast table. It never would have crossed my mind.

After a couple months of creepy, self-doubting, silent breakfast, he began to linger. He would flit over to the piano, perch on the back, and watch me play for an hour. He didn’t seem to care what I played. On other days he would watch me paint. He didn’t seem to care when I started painting him. He was a good model, so quiet and still. 

I began to anticipate his appearance. Wondering what new strange thing he would do. Yesterday he looked as if he wanted to say something. I sat very still and listened. Held my breath for as long as I could and opened my mind. I think I heard It’s time. But it felt deep in my mind. I couldn’t sleep wondering what it was time for. I was trying to cleanse my soul just in case. I prayed a lot for forgiveness, but I wasn’t sure for. I begged Erin to come and get me. But morning came. 

I went downstairs. I made toast and took butter and jam from the fridge. I stared at the coffee pot as it dripped. I took my breakfast to the table and started nibbling. Hoping my slowness might stave off whatever was coming, and trying to be accepting and ready at the same time. But he didn’t appear.

I went to the piano and played what I thought he might have thought I played best. He didn’t appear.

I tried to paint what I thought he would look like today. He didn’t appear.

I have to admit: I miss him.

Halloween Photography Challenge

Today’s photoshoot was fun. Inspired by the idea of an exquisite corpse game, I drew three different ideas of demons on clear plastic with sharpies. Instead of cutting the plastic in thirds (the plastic rips easily) I tried layering the drawings. Then I tried putting each one in a face-shaped paper cut-out. I hadn’t drawn on clear plastic in a while. I enjoyed how each drawing had its own strengths and weaknesses as a lens filter.

Colorful circles resembling coins with generic devil heads and tails.
For Buying Souls (thinking about a new dollar coin) by Maria L. Berg 2025
Possessed by Maria L. Berg 2025

From the Depths of Hell

🔗Post contains Amazon associate links (shown with Aal in parentheses)
🔗Links in the Table of Contents are Jump links to each of the challenges to navigate easily to the prompt of your interest: OctPoWriMo for poetry; Writober Flash Fiction for flash fiction; Halloween Photography Challenge for photography
🐦‍⬛Example poems are copied here for educational purposes.
🖼️I made these banners from my photos and free for commercial use fonts. Feel free to use them in your posts.

🎃OctPoWriMo 🦇Writober Flash Fiction 👻Halloween Photography Challenge

Today’s Theme: Evil and Possession

Our fear of possession is rooted in that universal fear of loss of autonomy that we talked about with psychic powers. Only possession has a religious origin. The idea of demonic possession is presented in the bible, in the New Testament gospels of Mark and Matthew, Jesus cast out unclean spirits from people. The fear of possession is the fear of losing the battle for the soul between the heavenly powers of good vs. the hellish powers of evil.

In the many stories of exorcisms we see the power of words and belief. All fears are based on belief. If we don’t believe in something, we are much less likely to be afraid of it than someone who does.

As writers our job is to get readers to suspend disbelief. We want our characters and worlds no matter how outside the known world to be real to the reader, so they will withhold logic or judgement while enjoying the story. To do that we need to be consistent once we’ve set up our story’s rules such as how magic works, a monster’s strengths and weaknesses, or the definitions of good and evil.

OctPoWriMo

Good and evil are abstractions, words that represent concepts that are not perceived by the senses and cannot be physically measured. When exploring abstractions it’s important to show how you define those abstract concepts using concrete sensory details. You may want to use similes and metaphors. Or you may want to use lists of objects with sensory details that represent that abstract concept for you.

Example Poem: “The Genius of the Crowd” by Charles Bukowski from All Poetry 

The Genius of the Crowd

there is enough treachery, hatred violence absurdity in the average
human being to supply any given army on any given day

and the best at murder are those who preach against it
and the best at hate are those who preach love
and the best at war finally are those who preach peace

those who preach god, need god
those who preach peace do not have peace
those who preach peace do not have love

beware the preachers
beware the knowers
beware those who are always reading books
beware those who either detest poverty
or are proud of it
beware those quick to praise
for they need praise in return
beware those who are quick to censor
they are afraid of what they do not know
beware those who seek constant crowds for
they are nothing alone
beware the average man the average woman
beware their love, their love is average
seeks average

but there is genius in their hatred
there is enough genius in their hatred to kill you
to kill anybody
not wanting solitude
not understanding solitude
they will attempt to destroy anything
that differs from their own
not being able to create art
they will not understand art
they will consider their failure as creators
only as a failure of the world
not being able to love fully
they will believe your love incomplete
and then they will hate you
and their hatred will be perfect

like a shining diamond
like a knife
like a mountain
like a tiger
like hemlock

their finest art

~Charles Bukowski

How does the poet use abstract nouns and concrete nouns in this poem?

Prompt: Write a poem about the contradictory nature of human behavior. Even without possession, the battle of good and evil rages within each one of us. Like the example poem, use anaphora (repetition of the first word of the line) to show patterns in these contradictions.

Possible form: The Bop. The Bop form, created by Afaa Michael Weaver, is a three stanza poetic argument.

Writober Flash Fiction Challenge

Day Nine Image

Click on the link and take a look at the image. How might this image relate to today’s theme? Write a piece of flash fiction, anything from a six-word story to 999 words. Feel free to bring in the OctPoWriMo prompt and the Photography Challenge prompt, anything that inspires your story.

Halloween Photography Challenge

Thank you so much for joining me for this year’s October challenges. Remember to support each other by visiting and commenting on as many links as you can as we explore our Deepest Fears in anticipation of Halloween.

If you enjoy these posts and the work I do here, please head to my buymeacoffee page and show your support! Thank you so much. Every bit helps keep this site going.

Music to get us moving:

It’s Alive!

🔗Links in the Table of Contents are Jump links to my responses to each of the challenges
🐦‍⬛This is original work created by Maria L. Berg and this post counts as copyright. All rights reserved.

A shadow of a stylized figure with glowing eyes, set against a circular orange background, evoking a spooky atmosphere.
It’s Alive! by Maria L. Berg 2025

🎃OctPoWriMo 🦇Writober Flash Fiction 👻Halloween Photography Challenge

Today’s Theme: Inanimate Objects Come to Life

These are my responses to the prompt post for Day 8 of Writober: It Seems So Alive

OctPoWriMo

A colorful toy figure with a mischievous expression stands on a textured surface, accompanied by two small paper cubes with handwritten text.

Undead Revived After So Long

1. Trapped deep in the dark, how long has it been?
It appears you spent some time rotting before you arose hungry for brains.
Why is your gray jacket torn, your purple shirt tattered?
Your tongue perpetually protrudes like a kid trying to concentrate.
I wind you up and with a whiny waddle you dump orange, red, blue, green
The centers of your ears look like backwards B’s.
One eye bulging even your nose hole is crooked.
Does it tickle? It seems like it would tickle.

2. I can’t believe you’re still full.
Why is your gray jacket torn
your purple shirt tattered?
I twist, twist, twist the knob
in your right arm.
The centers of your ears 
look like backwards B’s.
One eye bulging , even
your nose hole is crooked.
Can lack of sun explain
that yellow-green complexion?
It appears you spent some time
rotting before you arose
hungry for brains.
Trapped deep in the dark
how long has it been?
I wind you up and with a whiny waddle
you dump orange, red, blue, green.
You trot toward the table’s edge
but I won’t let you fall.

3. You trot toward the table’s edge
but I won’t let you fall.
I can’t believe you’re still full.
Can lack of sun explain 
that yellow-green complexion?
I can’t believe you’re still full.
Does it tickle? It seems like it would tickle.
Can lack of sun explain that yellow-green complexion?
Why is your gray jacket torn, your purple shirt tattered?
I can’t believe you’re still full.
Trapped deep in the dark
How long has it been?
It appears you spent some time rotting
before you arose hungry for brains.
Can lack of sun explain that yellow-green complexion?
I can’t believe you’re still full.

Writober Flash Fiction Challenge

Play Things

They looked so playful, like a jumble of dolls. Bethany had been to girls’ houses who had so many dolls that they piled them up like that. She would never throw her dolls in a pile if she had some. She tip-toed closer. All of the faces looked up at her. 

“Hello?”said Bethany. “Do you have names?” 

They shook their heads. 

“Do you have a mommy?” 

They shook their heads. 

“Can I be your mommy? I’ll name you Bunny and you Buttons. You can be Flower and you I’ll call Sunshine. I’ll call you Mona, Casper, Coraline, Damian, Lucien, and you can be Boo. Do you want to come home with me? “

They nodded, stood onto four legs and followed close behind Bethany, their heads protruding around her head. 

“Do you like tea? she asked. I’m so glad to have so many dolls to play with.”

Halloween Photography Challenge

Today’s images are about the importance of the rib cage. I tried a more realistic cut, but it was too fragile and the ribs broke off. So I went for a representation of a rib cage, and made a second filter by putting what I cut out on a piece of plastic.

A layered image displaying a shadow of a marionette with a textured background, symbolizing inanimate objects coming to life.
Creepy Doll by Maria L. Berg 2025

It Seems So Alive

🔗Post contains Amazon associate links (shown with Aal in parentheses)
🔗Links in the Table of Contents are Jump links to each of the challenges to navigate easily to the prompt of your interest: OctPoWriMo for poetry; Writober Flash Fiction for flash fiction; Halloween Photography Challenge for photography
🐦‍⬛Example poems are copied here for educational purposes.
🖼️I made these banners from my photos and free for commercial use fonts. Feel free to use them in your posts.

🎃OctPoWriMo 🦇Writober Flash Fiction 👻Halloween Photography Challenge

Today’s Theme: Inanimate objects coming to life

Sometimes it’s fun when puppeteers make puppets, muppets, marionettes, or ventriloquist dummies come to life through the skilled movements of their hands (and voices). But when the puppeteer is taken out of the question and things are still walking and talking, it makes one question her sanity. The object at that point must be possessed by evil, or so the myriad of stories would have us believe.

When we were children we believed our dolls and stuffed animals could walk and talk, understand our problems, and play games with us. When did that end? Why did that end?

Here’s a fun writing exercise for looking at an inanimate object in many different ways:

Writing cube exercise: I came up with this idea on the second day of April’s NaPoWriMo 2024. Terrance Hayes’s thoughts on boxes made me think of using flattened cubes to put words and phrases on. Then I can put the words on the inside or the outside of the cube, and by turning the cube, enter the poem (or any writing) from different text.

Try turning an object in your hand, looking at it from every angle. Hold it above your head. Put it below you on the floor. Write specific details of the object, using all your senses, on each square of the cube. You can add quick snippets of thoughts and memories that come up as you examine the object. Then cut out and construct the cubes and roll them like dice to come up with the order of your phrases for your poem or short prose.

OctPoWriMo

In poetry objects often come alive. Objects are given human characteristics, emotions and actions which is called personification.

Example Poem: “Field of Skulls” by Mary Karr from Poetry Foundation.

Field of Skulls

Stare hard enough at the fabric of night,
and if you’re predisposed to dark—let’s say
the window you’ve picked is a black
postage stamp you spend hours at,
sleepless, drinking gin after the I Love
Lucy reruns have gone off—stare

like your eyes have force, and behind
any night’s taut scrim will come the forms
you expect pressing from the other side.
For you: a field of skulls, angled jaws
and eye-sockets, a zillion scooped-out crania.
They’re plain once you think to look.

You know such fields exist, for criminals
roam your very block, and even history lists
monsters like Adolf and Uncle Joe
who stalk the earth’s orb, plus minor baby-eaters
unidentified, probably in your very midst. Perhaps
that disgruntled mail clerk from your job

has already scratched your name on a bullet—that’s him
rustling in the azaleas. You caress the thought,
or it proves there’s no better spot for you
than here, your square-yard of chintz sofa, hearing
the bad news piped steady from your head. The night
is black. You stare and furious stare,

confident there are no gods out there. In this way,
you’re blind to your own eye’s intricate machine
and to the light it sees by, to the luck of birth and all
your remembered loves. If the skulls are there—
let’s say they do press toward you
against night’s scrim—could they not stare
with slack jawed envy at the fine flesh
that covers your scalp, the numbered hairs,
at the force your hands hold?

~ Mary Karr

How does the poet use personification to bring inanimate objects to life?

Prompt: Write a poem about the life of an inanimate object. You could write from the objects point of view, or use the cube exercise to explore the object from many different points of view.

Possible form: The Lewis Carroll Square Poem. This six line poem of six words per line, reads the same across as it does down.

Writober Flash Fiction Challenge

Day Eight Image

Click on the link and take a look at the image. How might this image relate to today’s theme? Write a piece of flash fiction, anything from a six-word story to 999 words. Feel free to bring in the OctPoWriMo prompt and the Photography Challenge prompt, anything that inspires your story.

Halloween Photography Challenge

Thank you so much for joining me for this year’s October challenges. Remember to support each other by visiting and commenting on as many links as you can as we explore our Deepest Fears in anticipation of Halloween.

If you enjoy these posts and the work I do here, please head to my buymeacoffee page and show your support! Thank you so much. Every bit helps keep this site going.

Music to get us writing:

A Cage at the Core

🔗Links in the Table of Contents are Jump links to my responses to each of the challenges
🐦‍⬛This is original work created by Maria L. Berg and this post counts as copyright. All rights reserved.

An abstract image featuring swirling patterns in shades of blue and red, with a dark, stylized rib cage at the center in a blue circle.
Rib Cage by Maria L. Berg 2025

🎃OctPoWriMo 🦇Writober Flash Fiction 👻Halloween Photography Challenge

Today’s Theme: Skeleton

These are my responses to the prompt post for Day 7 of Writober: The Core of Our Beings

OctPoWriMo

Skeletons Only Have Value When Out of Place


Writober Flash Fiction Challenge

Good Sight

It was a normal day. I had just picked up a bag of groceries and was waiting at the crosswalk. A woman in a mix of bright colors and patterns stepped into the crosswalk. A truck sped toward her from my left. It wasn’t slowing.

I didn’t think. I dropped my groceries, dashed across, grabbed her and pulled her back to the sidewalk. She landed on me, smothering me with her girth. She smelled of warm dusty spices and baby powder. 

“Let go of me!” she yelled, rolling back and forth like a turtle on its shell. 

I pushed on her shoulder and squirmed out from under. “Are you okay?”

The truck driver who had screeched to a halt and others who had been waiting at the crosswalk rushed over and helped us get to our feet. Strangers shook my hand, said I was a hero. A crazy, foolish, hero. Someone handed me the torn bag with a few of my damaged groceries. 

She chuckled. Her whole body jiggled with her joyful laughed. “You saved me?” she said in an intriguing accent. “The least I can do is feed you dinner. I live very close and there’s plenty.”

I always enjoyed meeting new people and learning about new cultures, so this sounded like the perfect answer to my growling tummy and lack of groceries. “Thank you for your kind offer. Lead the way.”

She grabbed my arm and we plodded along around the corner.

“I’m Martine,” she said.

“Jordan,” I replied. “I noticed your accent. Do you mind me asking where you’re from?”

“Not at all. I’m from Senegal.” She let go of my arm as we climbed the stairs.

“That’s Africa, right? The west coast.” I paused on each step and waited. This was a slow journey.

“Have you been?” She unlocked three different locks with three different keys.

“Oh, no. I haven’t been much of anywhere, but I like maps, geography and stuff.”

“A dreamer, eh?”

“I guess you could say that.”

The inside of her apartment was as colorful and spicy as she was. A frightening horned mask protruded from one wall. Large pillows and cushions covered the floor. 

She went straight to the kitchen and grabbed two glasses from a shelf. The glass she handed me held a yellow liquid that smelled tangy. She clinked my glass and downed hers, so I did the same. It was sharp, bitey, and burned on the way down. It threatened to come back up. 

I coughed. “What is that?” I sputtered.

She laughed that warm, joyous laugh I was coming to love, “Palm wine. I make it myself. Reminds me of home. Here have more.” She didn’t wait for an answer and filled my glass. “Dinner is almost ready.”

“What are we having?”

“Chicken and vegetables. It’s been cooking for hours. Will be so nice and soft.”

She grabbed a huge silver bowl, filled the bottom with rice, then dumped the entire pan of chicken pieces and vegetables from the oven on it, then she covered the whole thing in a brown sauce that was somehow also dark red. I smelled peanuts which smelled good but out of place. 

She placed the bowl inside a white symbol drawn on the floor and told me to take a seat. Sitting on a cushion across from me, she dug in with her right hand. I did the same. The vegetables mushed right into the rice. The sauce made my fingers oily and they turned orange. The chicken melted in my mouth. I didn’t realize how much I had eaten until my stomach pushed against my waistband uncomfortably. The bowl was now empty accept for a pile of chicken bones. 

“The best part,” she said.

“What is?”

“The marrow.” She grabbed a bone.

“The what?”

She broke the bone and sucked on it loudly. She tilted the bowl toward me and I tentatively took a bone. She nodded at me. I did not want to insult her after she had shared such a surprising meal. I took a deep breath, smiled, and snapped the bone. I put it in my mouth and sucked. A pasty liquid touched my tongue, rich and savory like beefy butter.

“You like? It’s good for your sight.”

 “Like vitamin A?” I asked.

She didn’t answer, only laughed.

After we sucked all the bones, she offered tea, but I felt a little nauseus and wanted some air. She thanked me again for saving her from the truck and walked me to the door. 

Outside,  the evening seemed brighter. I felt warm, from the inside out. The usually busy streets appeared empty except for a small group walking toward me. I thought the sun was playing tricks, setting behind them. I could see through them. Their skin draped like sheer veils. Their skeletons glowed with the burning fire of their souls. Is that hellfire? flashed through my mind. Even the drizzling rain falling around them lit up like sparks. But the fire did not spread. 

Was I the only one seeing this? I looked around but I was alone. Where was everyone? What had happened to me? I thought about what Martine said, It’s good for your sight. How was this a good sight? What if the reason I’m only seeing these few figures, and I’m seeing right through them is because she opened my eyes to good. Are these few, the only truly good? Why do they have to look like fiery skeletons?

I turned around to follow them.

Halloween Photography Challenge

Today’s images are about the importance of the rib cage. I tried a more realistic cut, but it was too fragile and the ribs broke off. So I went for a representation of a rib cage, and made a second filter by putting what I cut out on a piece of plastic.

An abstract image featuring swirls of blue and brown colors, resembling psychic energies or a mystical aura with a blue, stylized rib cage center.
Life Force in a Cage by Maria L. Berg 2025