Tag Archives: MLMM

February 21, 2018

House as Self – Sunday Writing Challenge

By Kat Myrman

You never know when you might need that 3-inch lug-nut wrench that came with the baby gate I had when my kids were toddling.

“How old are my kids?” you ask.

Well, if you must know, they have children of their own now. All the more reason to hang onto that little tool. Never know when they might need it.

“And the keys?” you ask, “What are they for?”

Well, that black one? That was from my first apartment. Great place that was. Just a block away from downtown. Loved that place. And that tiny one? My very first diary. I still have it…somewhere…I think. The others? I’m not sure. But someone knows. So I keep them around, just in case.

I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking that all of this junk is useless. But I’ll have you know that I’m the first one everyone comes to when they need tape, a pen, a battery or a rubber-band. I can be counted on for a paper clip in a pinch, or a bandaid or one of those adapter thingies that you use to plug a three-pronged plug into a two-pronged outlet.

Junk you say? I know, and you do too, that you would be lost without me, but it’s okay if you don’t want to admit it. You know I’ll always be here if you need me. Remember that next time you need a twist-tie.

~kat

For MindLoveMiserysMenagerie Sunday Writing Prompt:”House as Self”. They say you can tell a lot about a person by the parts of a house that they are drawn to. I find myself reflected not in a particular room or space, but a drawer…a junk drawer to be exact. You know you love me…😉

14 Comments   |  tags: , , , , , | posted in Challenges and Writing Prompts, Digital Art & Photos, Essays, Random Thoughts and Musings

February 11, 2018

Euphoria

By Kat Myrman

If I’m being honest, there are only a handful of times I’ve experienced true euphoria. Meeting my children for the first time ranks right up there.

Certainly it was euphoria erupting in the sterile confines of those clinically-monitored natural events. I recall the sting of ammonia residue burning my nostrils, released in short Lamaze “hee, hee, ho, ho, oh god!” purse-lipped bursts, the push, don’t push groaning pelvic floor implosions, and the excruciating waves of dull, sharp, 9-10-is there an 11? on a scale of how bad is it? pain.

I was drenched in euphoria by the tingling tickle of cool sweat beads popping from my pores under the glare of strobing fluorescent lights, my muscles shaking uncontrollably, the incessant click-clacking of wheels on linoleum, paper-booted feet shuffling, fetal heart monitor lub-dubbing and by the startling smack of cold metal on my bare back on its sticky slide to the edge, my fuzzy-socked feet lodged securely in stirrups cradling my heels, while a dozen excited eyes burned a hole through my gaping crotch.

But oh… that was only foreplay, euphorically speaking. The exquisite climax to this laboring rush came at long last in the hot, wet, rushing sensation of soft alien flesh sliding from my core into the waiting, latex-gloved hands of a masked stranger who uttered the words I had waited nine long, bloated, nauseating, glowing months to hear…maybe even longer, if I’m being honest. “You did it, Mama! Meet your beautiful daughter!” That, my friends was euphoria!

Euphoria is a sliver shy of madness don’t you think? It’s a scientific fact actually, in some cases, you can look it up. But if we are lucky, it consumes us at least once in a lifetime. I have been quadruply blessed, but I fear my heart could not survive a steady dose of it!

even euphoria

an exhilarating experience
has a dark side

it’s sometimes a symptom
of carbon monoxide poisoning, hard drugs or mania…
I’m perfectly content with really, really happy

~kat

A few thoughts and a Cherita on the topic of Euphoria for Mind Love Misery’s Menageries’ Sunday Writing Prompt: Describe a moment in your real or fictional life when you experienced euphoria. Be as vivid as possible, hit all the senses (and I don’t just mean the basic 5).

17 Comments   |  tags: , , , , , , , , | posted in Challenges and Writing Prompts, Cherita, Digital Art & Photos, Essays, Humor, Poetry, Random Thoughts and Musings

February 10, 2018

A Lovely Obsession

By Kat Myrman

The quote “She was beautiful, but she was beautiful in the way a forest fire was beautiful: something to be admired from a distance, not up close.”

~Terry Pratchett

A Lovely Obsession

I first met her when I was a child. I spent hours listening to her, drinking in tales of the love’s and lives of people I would never know, but whose dna coursed through my veins.

As I grew older I planned summer and winter breaks to be with her. She had so many stories left to tell and I couldn’t bear the thought of missing a single one.

Eventually, age and time began to take their toll. Her frame had weakened, and the light faded from her face. I moved nearby to be closer to her and continued my daily visits until the dreadful day when her voice was silenced by greedy real estate developers.

They drained her lovely moat and took a wrecking ball to her beautiful face, crumbling centuries of brick and mortar into a heap of dust. I watched, tears flowing down my face, as they loaded her into monstrous trucks, and hauled her away to a quarry, in order to build a resort on her sprawling estate.

They thought they had removed every trace of her, but I knew better. She was rooted in this place.

The hotel had barely opened its doors when rumors of hauntings spread. Patrons stopped coming. Eventually the new owners shuttered the doors of the resort for good.

I was happy to see it fail. Finally, I had her all to myself. Once again, I spent my evenings wrapped in the shadows of her abandoned corridors. After all, she had more stories to tell, and I couldn’t bear the thought of missing a single one.

~kat

A short story for Mind Love Misery’s Menagerie Sunday Writing Prompt inspired by the quote and collage above.

8 Comments   |  tags: , , , , , | posted in Challenges and Writing Prompts, Flash Fiction, Under 300 Words

January 28, 2018

The Man Who Talks to Walls

By Kat Myrman
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Wailing Wall from Wikipedia

People from miles around gathered at the wall. For centuries it had heard their fears, their hopes, their dreams. For centuries it had collected messages and prayers scribbled on scraps of paper and stuffed into its crumbling facade. Some people were true believers in the wall and its power to pass their intentions to the One who listens. Some thought it nothing more than a novelty, a tourist destination, a photo op.

Cyrus was one of the latter. He lived near the wall and hated it. He often laughed at the pilgrims, ‘emotional fools’, he called them, shouting at them from his doorway, “It’s a wall you know! You’re talking to a stupid wall! Can’t you see how crazy that is? Stupid wall…stupid, stupid wall!”

But early every morning, when the streets were empty Cyrus would shuffle over to the wall; to the very same spot each time. He reached into a paper-laden crack and gently removed a folded yellow note, dropped to the ground, tears flooding the corners of his eyes as he read the child-like scrawl fading on the page.

Please don’t take my mommy God. I need her.
Love,
Cyrus

Days after young Cyrus had written that note, his mother succumbed to illness. That was the day Cyrus stopped believing in the wall; in anything for that matter. He felt oddly comforted when he read the note though. Memories of his mother flooded his mind. As painful as it was, he couldn’t stay away.

Year’s passed and it was Cyrus’ time to leave this world. As he closed his eyes, weary from a life of pain and disappointment, he started to feel lighter. His soul rose above his body and drifted through the door of his house and over to the wall where his mother stood waiting for him, holding the yellow note in her hand.

“Momma? Momma, why did God take you away from me?”

“Oh Cyrus, I never left. Don’t you know that every time you came to the wall to read your note, I was right there, holding you. Reminding you of how much I loved you. Did you feel it Cyrus?”

“I did. Yes, I did feel you each time as lovely memories filled my head. That was you?”

“Yes. The wall and your note kept me close to you. Now you and I can both find rest and peace. Are you ready Cyrus?

“Yes. I’m ready,” Cyrus whispered as he took his mother’s hand. Together they drifted through the wall into the starry night sky.

The wall moaned and shuddered as another breach ripped its ancient stone face bottom to top creating another portal for notes from those seeking miracles and little boys, orphaned too soon.

~kat

For MindLoveMisery’sMenagerie Sunday Writing Prompt. This week: “It’s All in the Title” – Use one or more of the titles below to compose a song/story/poem:

A Girl Called Gift
A Night Without Dreams
The Day the Stars Burned
Revenant
Sleep Deprivation
The Mulberry Bush
A Disquieting Haze
A Vision in Blue
The Man Who Talks to Walls
The Fairy Queen

15 Comments   |  tags: , , , , , | posted in Challenges and Writing Prompts, Short Stories (300+ Words), Spirituality

January 21, 2018

Sorry…Not Sorry – A Rant

By Kat Myrman

A rant, as requested for Mindlovemiserysmenagerie’s Sunday Writing Prompt. Interesting prompt this week MLMM. Normally I would apologize for ranting, but since you asked…

Sorry…Not Sorry – A Rant

Do I offend you because I speak my mind? Because, in your words, “I care more about my beliefs than I care about you?”

Now you demand an apology and my silence in order to be welcomed back into your presence. Sorry…not sorry.

The truth is, you offend me. You, and your willful aversion to the truth. You and your self-righteous double-life…all love and politeness on the outside while you fester with fear and hatred on the inside.

I guess you thought you had me this time by denying that I existed, by breaking my heart, by disowning me. It had always worked in the past, with me acquiescing to your demands, tiptoeing on eggshells, towing your rigid, unforgiving line, playing by your rules. But I finally realize that nothing I do or don’t do will appease your self-involved, demanding heart.

Once, it didn’t matter to me if I assumed my expected ‘present but silent’, unquestioningly loyal role in your perfect life. But now? Now I see your heart, clear as day, and I am deeply embarrassed, disheartened and disgusted that I allowed myself to be tossed by your whims for so long. 100 “I’m sorry’s” will not make you happy. Not even 1000.

And frankly…can I be frank? Oh what the hell, you’re not listening anyway. I need to sleep each night. I need to live what I believe to be good and compassionate and true. I need to know that I did not sell my soul for the sake of a win.

Even so, I’ll always love you. We are blood, after all, connected by the strands of our DNA, but I’m not going to beg anymore. I happen to like who I am. And I’m learning that liking myself is what matters most of all, even if it means losing you.

~kat

Do I feel better? Not really…well, maybe a little, but my heart is still broken. Ranting can’t fix that. 😢💔😢

24 Comments   |  tags: , , , | posted in Challenges and Writing Prompts, Essays, Life Lessons, Random Thoughts and Musings