the old ghost writer
finds his ghosting jobs drying up
is it ironic that the word ghosting itself
is ghosting his ghosting job title

for Word of the Day Challenge



do squirrels poop
never seen it around town
what is their secret

for Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge

after the plague


when the pandemic struck and people started dying in large numbers, i expected the cities to empty. I expected chaos and roaming gangs, but no, none of that happened. folks hunkered down. they went without food. they respected each other. very few filled a backpack and headed out into the countryside.

so when i left the city and avoided the suburbs and towns and villages, traveling into the wilderness, away from the pestilence, i found myself alone, somewhat untrained and unprepared. where was i to find water and something to eat? that was the main thing. i had brought some provisions but these were quickly exhausted. i had parked my truck and went on foot up a game trail, to avoid any contact with folks on the road.

fortunately, i met a homeless geezer, a hermit, a wanderer, a hobo, a loner who was willing to abide a single partner, me. His name was Eben, short for Ebeneezer, and he knew how to survive alone in the woods and he found the act of mentoring agreeable.

whence i came to be a homeless geezer, a hermit, a wanderer, a hobo, a loner looking for one companion after Eben passed on.



i pulled a prank on a bank
for a lark in the dark
it was a joke
… you old soak

for Three Things Challenge


rubies and diamonds
we dig deep to find beauty
under red blossums

for dVerse Poet’s Pub

Fandango’s Provocative Question #63

Question: When we finally get through this COVID-19 pandemic at some point in the future, do you think the world is going to change from what is was like before anyone ever heard of coronavirus? Or will things quickly return to “business as usual”?

Answer: Death is the ultimate changer-of-things. Whether it happens to you or to someone you love or just to a variety of folks that you know, your world will change.

for Fandango’s Provocative Question

home sweet home

Image by Bikurgurl

for years i’ve lived quietly in a downtown parking garage. it takes a little cunning and craft, but i come and go after dark, avoid the security cameras, and sleep under the vehicles of long-term parkers who are out of state on business trips. i’ve had the garage all to myself, as the less-crafty get caught and tossed out.

but now, zounds, the garage has been turned into an emergency hospital. nowhere to hide, from the doctors or the virus.

but yay. I’ve snuck into a furniture warehouse. nobody here. they’re all sheltering at home. i sleep in a king-size!

for 100-Word Wednesday

my mission, explained

PHOTO PROMPT © Douglas M. MacIlroy

i’ve always heard voices. the doctors blame schizophrenia. i think the voices are real. i believe they are real. but where do they come from? that has always been the question in my mind. the source of my doubts. i hear the voices but i look around and see no one.

lately the voices have become more urgent. more demanding. they importune me. they explain my mission.

that has been my other big question. why am i here? what is my purpose?

now i know. the bird speaks. i am to join him. fly around the world spreading good news.

for Addicted to Purple


deer wary at night
watching for threats in the dark
mine too small to see

for Wednesday Challenge


spring comes too early
reluctant pouting petals
my rhythms disturbed

for April Writing Prompts