OLWG · writing

OLWG# 287- Justine

Written for OLWG# 287

What kind of wine does one serve a ghost?
Not the cheapest wine.
Neither, the top shelf;
not for the likes of Justine.

Justine, whose
frank point of view,
ready wit,
reckless nature,
inimitable good temper,
and high spirits
were known far and wide.

Justine, whose indiscretions appealed to an entire generation, long past, that welcomed her as the antithesis of Puritanism.

I expect her to visit my room tonight so,
I’ve laid in fine cheeses, oysters, and caviar.
I’ve considered
a Sauvignon Blanc,
or an Albariño?
(a reliable ‘go-to’ with seafood)
Perhaps, dry Riesling?

No, Champagne! I’ll pick up a bottle at Walmart.
The bubbles should contrast with the soft texture of the oyster.
The umami flavours of both should work together.

What to wear?                                                   

This week’s prompts were:

  1. ghosts in my room
  2. the cheapest wine
  3. what were we thinking?


ZoZo 17.November.22 Spycraft

Written in 15 minutes, with the Carrizozo Writers- Raw, unedited, exactly as it flowed through my fingers to the keyboard

Marquez walked nonchalantly to the park bench and sat at the end, just as he had done for the three days previous. The first day he had sat for 15 minutes and when no one appeared he left. The second day he sat alone for 30 minutes before departing. Yesterday he waited for only five minutes.

Today, almost immediately after he sat down a tall, thin, woman; with long, straight, dark hair sat down next to him. She carried a tiny dog in her purse.

“Do you have the diamond?” he said aloud, albeit softly enough that only his new companion could hear.

She sat up straight and dug around the dog to retrieve package and a lighter. She pulled a long slender cigarette from the pack and lit it, inhaling deeply, “Indeed,” she said as she exhaled, “In the cigarette pack.” She set the cellophane package on the bench next to her leg.

Marquez retrieved the package, brushing his fingertips along her thigh as he did. He felt the package and looked in from the top, before smiling, and proffering a single brass key on a chain, “Lincoln Street bus station, locker 223,” he said as he stood beginning to walk away. Then as if suddenly remembering something he turned back. “I felt something when I brushed your leg,” he said, “did you feel it too?”

She just scowled at him.

“Would you be interested in joining me for a grilled cheese lunch at the diner?” He continued.

She shook her head.

Marquez stared at her face longingly, then turned and left the park via the south path.


time’s up – step away

The prompts

  1. do you have the diamond
  2. outside of your comfort zone
  3. best time of day

OLWG · writing

OLWG# 286- Three Thoughts at Random

Written for OLWG# 286

Roadside Attractions

Dad, can we visit the world’s largest ball of string?
Do I look like Lewis and Clark?

Visiting the US

Exchange students! Young, high school aged girls – cute and giggly. They came into the shop in two waves of three. The first was from Germany, next – España, third was Italian. Then came Japan, Czechoslovakia, and a mystery country (I believe she was a bit shy as she scarcely spoke). I took the time to talk with her, and the mystery country turned out to be Greece. The young lady was from Kefalonia. Years ago, Mattie and I had stayed a month, or so, in her Grandfather’s hotel on the island’s south coast.

Turns out that we may have known her mother, too; she was called Anthea. Anthea had lived and worked at the hotel. She was the only one there who spoke English, and may have carried our luggage when we arrived, although she couldn’t have been more than eight years old at the time.


Cold this morning, when I woke, my Weather app told me it was 10O F at 0600.
At 0830, I left for the bookstore and noticed, beneath the pecan tree, lay a thick blanket of brown leaves.
Yesterday the leaves were on the tree.
They were a light shade of yellow.

The cold took ‘em, ever’ one.

This week’s prompts were:

  1. Lewis and Clark
  2. living in a cheap hotel
  3. the woman he’d met in Greece

OLWG · writing

OLWG# 284- Nat

Written for OLWG# 284

I first met Natalie on a Friday night in late November of 1983. She leaned against the window of the DP next door to the Dominion Theatre on Tottenham Court Road in Camden. She was dark-skinned. Her complexion consisted of all the colours that make midnight. That is, if you were to look away from the full moon hanging low in the eastern sky.

 Peter Tosh was playing that night.

 Natalie and I soon fell into an easy banter, and we hung together during the show. Afterwards, we ran through the rain and shared a drink at a tiny, non-descript place in Soho. We shared a mattress on the floor of her flat in Brixton. In the morning, we shared a breakfast and made plans for later that day.

 That evening as agreed, I knocked on her door just before dark. We were going for dinner. She came to the door wearing nothing but a smile. We missed out on dinner, but we played Strip Monopoly all night. She won the last time I landed on ‘Fleet Street,’ but I felt that I had won as well and that she had wanted that.

In total, Natalie and I shared almost a month. She disappeared before Christmas that year. Looking back, I realize I should have seen it coming, but I was blind and taken by surprise. One afternoon, I went to Brixton, but her space was empty. Empty save for a single sheet of lined paper ripped from the pad she always kept next to her bed. It read


This week’s prompts were:

  1. truth becomes imperative
  2. you wanted more
  3. we played Monopoly all night


ZoZo 03.November.22 A Greedy Man

Written in 10 minutes, with the Carrizozo Writers- Raw, unedited, exactly as it flowed through my fingers to the keyboard

In his twisted mind the twisted memories spun around and around the synapses that stood like signposts and navigational aids to mark the way.
His Mother
his money
his job
his Lovers
his Wife…
And his legacy.
There was even a dog, that seemed to spring from nowhere, she was named Kona.
The man could never have enough
he could never be satisfied
and only the best would sooth his tortured soul
even then, it was only for a little while. The thirst could never be quenched.
He wanted the moon
he wanted the stars
money meant nothing to him.
He had enough.
Pleasure, pain, debauchery.
Those were what he craved,
longed for.
He had forsaken his mother, his wife and the dog
he lived for his lovers and for
experiences with which he was
How long could this go on?

There was a twisted man who walked a twisted mile
To reach a twisted house filled with twisted desires

And pain
There would always be pain – no escaping it.


time’s up – step away

The prompts

  1. the greedy man
  2. twisted memories