THE GREEN

 

The green hides inside

With unspoken pride.

It comes at night,

Growing in might.

A fine mist falls first

As trees drink from thirst.

They swallow the green whole

By forming a deep hole.

As the fairies alight on leaves,

I need out of here, pretty please.

 

 

OUR GAMES HAVE JUST BEGUN — THE DEAD GAME — PART 31

Off to the gingerbread house we go
On this fine fall day.
The country road yawns before us,
Pointing the way with pebbled arms.

Shana is laughing up a storm,
Similar to the one building around us.
Swirling gusts lead us by the hand
To a cottage made not by man.

The house floats in a dewy gauze of its own,
Shielded from any attacks or storms.
It glistens and shimmers in the fading light
As we draw closer to its unfailing might.

The front door opens at our approach,
An extended arm our only invitation.
I want to leave but Shana says,
“Linda, let’s see who lives inside.”

Before I could answer she walks in,
Leaving me alone in the dying day.
Pebbles unearth themselves in my direction
Until I’m forced to seek shelter from the storm.

An older couple wait for us inside,
Wearing clothes from days long gone.
They show us around their unusual home,
Where rooms are shrines to their grown children.

We are led to the attic to find a lone rocking chair,
Facing the forest and deserted country road.
The woman explains they are The Watchers,
Watching over the town for errant vampires.

My ears are ringing and my heart is pounding
As I listen to her words in disbelief.
She says there’s always a Watcher in the rocking chair
As the chair begins to rock on its own.

We flee the scene of our worst nightmare,
Determined never to return to this awful place.
We don’t know whether to believe her story,
But the chair did begin to rock in its place.

Our games have just begun.

THE DEAD GAME

TRAPPED IN WONDERLAND

Too many people on the streets.

Cars honking their horns.

People shoving each other.

When did life become so hectic?

Why is everyone in a hurry?

Where are they all going?

They become a blur to me.

One shoving mass of humanity.

Hurrying to their end.

No individuality.

No caring.

No manners.

Only a need

to get somewhere fast.

Trapped in their

Alice of Wonderland—

in a hurry to go nowhere.

FAIRYTALE OR HORROR STORY?

Is this a fairytale or a horror story?<br /> Is the princess entering the grounds<br /> of her dream mansion or a house of horrors?<br /> Will her wand protect her?<br /> If it was up to me, she will be entering<br /> the house from her deepest, darkest fears.<br /> Her wand will be whisked away from her hand.<br /> The gates behind her lock shut.<br /> She begins to realize that she<br /> just made a big mistake.<br /> Too bad, she has more mistakes to make<br /> as she continues to walk toward the house.<br /> What happens next?<br /> I will leave it to your imagination.

Is this a fairytale or a horror story?

Is the princess entering the grounds

of her dream mansion or a house of horrors?

Will her wand protect her?

If it was up to me, she will be entering

the house from her deepest, darkest fears.

Her wand will be whisked away from her hand.

The gates behind her lock shut.

She begins to realize that she

just made a big mistake.

Too bad, she has more mistakes to make

as she continues to walk toward the house.

What happens next?

I will leave it to your imagination.