A BORING AFTERNOON AT THE PET STORE

babyanimalposts: A BORING AFTERNOON AT THE PET STORE A boring afternoon at the pet store. “What to do? What to do?” the white cat pondered to herself. The only movement was an annoying fly. It flew around the store. The four kittens followed the fly...

babyanimalposts:

     
A BORING AFTERNOON AT THE PET STORE

A boring afternoon at the pet store.
    “What to do? What to do?”
    the white cat pondered to herself.
    The only movement was an annoying fly.
    It flew around the store.
    The four kittens followed the fly with their eyes.
    In fact, they couldn’t keep their eyes off it.


The fly was black and furry.

    It had unusual yellow stripes down its back.
    The smallest cat wanted it for a new baby brother.
    The Tom cat wanted to swat the thing with his tail.
    The fly finally landed.
    On the Tom cat’s nose.
    “Ouch,” Tom cat screamed out.
    “It bit me!” he said while rubbing his nose.


Fluffy, the big white cat, ran over to Tom.

    She said,”It didn’t bite you but stung you.”
    “Oh no! Oh no! What should I do?”
    Tom ran around in circles.
    The white cat moved closer to look at his nose.
    “It’s fine. If it swells, we’ll put ice on it. It looks better
    than the poor fly.”


The four cats looked down at the fly lying on the ground.

    “It gave its life so it could sting you,” Fluffy said.
    “But why would it do that?” Tom looked confused.
     “It’s the way of life,” Fluffy said in a sad voice.
     “I know! We should bury it with a service and all.”
     The little voice came from the youngest kitten.
     They all agreed with him.


Not having a yard for a burial, they wrapped the fly

     in a tissue and were going to flush it down the toilet.
     But first, the youngest, Squeaky, said a few words.
     Squeaky was sad that the fly didn’t even have a name.
     “Let’s call her Miss Bee,” Fluffy suggested to the group.
     “Why? It was a fly.” Squeaky was upset.
     “No, my dear, she was a bee. And that is why she stung Tom.”
     Squeaky began to cry. 


After wiping his nose and eyes, Squeaky agreed to call

     her Miss Bee.
     “Goodbye, Miss Bee. We’re sorry we didn’t get to know you
     better. I hope you make friends in your new life.”
     With that said, Squeaky flushed the toilet and watched
     Miss Bee float away to her new life.
     “Goodbye Miss Bee,” Squeaky said. “We’ll miss you.”

KILL ME

KILL ME  killedtheinnocentpeople:
Untitled by Joe Kennett.
KILL ME
A walk through the woods
on a sunny afternoon.
The sun soon retreats
to be replaced by dark shadows.
Sighs fill the silence.
The tall trees lift their roots.
Trunks become...

 

KILL MEkilledtheinnocentpeople:
Untitled by Joe Kennett.

KILL ME

A walk through the woods

on a sunny afternoon.

The sun soon retreats

to be replaced by dark shadows.

Sighs fill the silence.

The tall trees lift their roots.

Trunks become faces,

branches reaching arms.

Shivering leaves fall in fear.

The giants move forward.

Just kill me now.

THE DEAD GAME

BLOOD

My fingers touch my face.
They glisten crimson
in the fading light.
Red drops hit the ground
from my moist lips.
I feel parched.
A thirst I’ve never felt before.
I look around at the fallen bodies.
Throats ripped open.
Sightless eyes open.
I’ve...

(Source: m0rbid-things)

 

 

My fingers touch my face.

They glisten crimson

in the fading light.

Red drops hit the ground

from my moist lips.

I feel parched.

A thirst I’ve never felt before.

I look around at the fallen bodies.

Throats ripped open.

Sightless eyes open.

I’ve become one of them.

 

The Dead Game

http://amzn.to/1lKvMrP  

http://bit.ly/1lFdqNj

 

 

HOUSE OF ICE

yan-wo:
“ Ice Hotel, Quebec
”
A house of ice.
Sounds too nice?
It might be.
It’s next to the sea.
Ice statues populate the place.
Just don’t look into their face.
Tales of horror fall from their lips.
Better run away from all this.
THE DEAD...

 

A house of ice.

Sounds too nice?

It might be.

It’s next to the sea.

Ice statues populate the place.

Just don’t look into their face.

Tales of horror fall from their lips.

Better run away from all this.

 

THE DEAD GAME

http://amzn.to/1lKvMrP  

http://bit.ly/1lFdqNj

 

THE DEAD GAME — A Paranormal Mystery

Should we visit End House?

The beautiful house had almost been

destroyed in the last storm.

Pieces of its roof and shutters had

blown off in the winds.

The last family had disappeared.

Why did we receive an invitation

for a party at the deserted house?

Let’s go and find out.

THE DEAD GAME

 

 

 

Come and join THE DEAD.

They are eager for new followers.

Who will be their next victim?

Who will wash up on shore?

Find out in THE DEAD GAME.

 

 

THE DEAD are watching.

They watch from windows and doors.

Once the sun goes down,

they roam the town.

Be smart;

stay indoors.

THE DEAD love the night.

 

 

The wolves howl in warning.

Birds flee in fear from trees.

The Dead come at night

to claim their victims.

Unless they are stopped.

Who is strong enough to stop them?

Find out in THE DEAD GAME.

 

 

The ground rumbles.

The gravestones shake.

The door to the mausoleum creaks open.

The leaves rustle in the wind.

The dirt parts.

A hand reaches from a grave.

Bodies rise up from the earth.

The Dead are ready to play.

THE DEAD GAME 

 

(Source: artizan3)

 

Midnight is approaching.

The witching hour in Oasis, Florida.

 

 

End House holds secrets.

Secrets of The Dead and gone.

Deadly traps.

Vengeful spirits.

Join us if you dare.

THE DEAD GAME by Susanne Leist

BUT A GHOST OF ME

 

No automatic alt text available.
My life has taken a downward spiral.
All I have taken for granted
is gone in a second.
A fleeting memory
of good times gone by.
Leaving me in a vacuum
of my own despair.
To wander the nights alone.
Voices filling my head.
Ice in my veins.
No one is left
but a ghost of me.

TRAPPED IN MY DARK THOUGHTS

I’m trapped in my own dark thoughts,
forever roaming beneath the twinkling stars.
I can see an open door in the distance,
offering possibilities beyond the here and now.
I want to escape from this dreary existence
to sample the tastes of the wide and...

 

I’m trapped in my own dark thoughts,

forever roaming beneath the twinkling stars.

I can see an open door in the distance,

offering possibilities beyond the here and now.

I want to escape from this dreary existence

to sample the tastes of the wide and far.

 

Aside

Writers 'n' Bloggers

242H.jpg

Has it ever occurred to you, that as we lean more and more towards ‘simple and sweet’, we are losing a once much loved writing style?

Yes, flowery writing is dead.

Or rather, it’s dying…

Time-honoured classics, the likes of which famed authors such as Charles Dickens and Emily Bronte have penned, will soon be remembered no more.

How can they be when consumers and writers alike are taking the easy route?

People are striving both to read and write easily consumable media, as opposed to brewing up heavy literature and weighty poems

This, for the most part, is due to laziness.

Readers are strapped for time and can’t be bothered to switch on their brain – especially after laborious work.

As for writers?

Well, we need to pay the bills don’t we?

If the market calls for easy-to-read material, surely we must step in and provide!

It’s not as…

View original post 628 more words

SECRETS

 

Night comes near.  The moon begins to rise.  The birds are beginning to swarm.  The Dead are ready to rise.  Who are they?  What are they?  THE DEAD GAME by Susanne Leistslobbering:

Valentin Rekunenko

 

Night comes near.

The moon rises.

The birds swarm.

The Dead rise.

THE DEAD GAME

 

  • slobbering:    Valentin Rekunenko    The portraits in Wolf’s house look so real.  As if a hand will reach out to grab the rose in your hand.  Are the portraits alive?  Is the house alive?  Why are the eyes following us?  Get us out of here!  The Dead are alive in THE DEAD GAME by Susanne Leist

(Source: pixography)

 

The portraits come alive.

Eyes follow us from below

the glass floor.

Alligator eyes.

A pool of alligators.

The Dead are alive in THE DEAD GAME.

 

  • witchinqhour:    Do The Dead sleep in coffins?  Do they sleep in beds like humans?  What about human vampires?  Meet them in THE DEAD GAME by Susanne Leist  http://www.amazon.com/author/susanneleist  http://www.outskirtspress.com/thedeadgame

witchinqhour:

Do The Dead sleep in coffins?

Do they sleep in beds like humans?

What about human vampires?

Meet them in THE DEAD GAME by Susanne Leist

http://www.amazon.com/author/susanneleist

http://www.outskirtspress.com/thedeadgame

  • I wouldn’t go inside if I was you.  You don’t know who is waiting for you.  Who?  The Dead.

 

I wouldn’t go inside.

You don’t know 

who is waiting for you.

Who?

The Dead.

 

The best way to survive in Oasis  is to keep your mouth, ears, and eyes shut.  The Dead don’t like intruders.Source: hauntedlounge)

 

The best way to survive in Oasis

is to keep your mouth, ears and eyes shut.

The Dead don’t like intruders.

 

  • The house is deserted.  The warm wind blows the windows open.  The breeze ruffles the curtains and  lifts the sheets covering the abandoned furniture.  What happened to the last family living there?  They disappeared in the night,  never to be heard from again.  A stormy night that was filled with  dangerous lightning and thunder.  End House holds many secrets.  Should we venture inside to uncover   its secrets?  Or should we leave these secrets to  grow and fester, along with the other  secrets hidden in Oasis, Florida?  The Dead Game by Susanne Leist

 

The house is deserted.

A warm wind blows the windows open.

The breeze ruffles the curtains and

lifts the sheets covering the abandoned furniture.

What happened to the last family living there?

They disappeared in the night,

never to be heard from again.

A stormy night that was filled with

dangerous lightning and thunder.

End House holds many secrets.

Should we venture inside to uncover

its secrets?

Or should we leave these secrets to

grow and fester, along with the other

secrets hidden in Oasis, Florida?

The Dead Game by Susanne Leist

SOLITUDE

SOLITUDE
A rare commodity is solitude.
It can be easily misunderstood.
To be all alone with no one else around.
You can do this in the air or on the ground.
You can sail off in the blue sea,
Or hop on a plane without me.
We can all use some time...

 

SOLITUDE

A rare commodity is solitude.
It can be easily misunderstood.
To be all alone with no one else around.
You can do this in the air or on the ground.
You can sail off in the blue sea,
Or hop on a plane without me.
We can all use some time alone.
Without T.V. or telephone.
Time to think about your goal.
You will come back feeling whole.