Category Archives: Halloween
THE LEGEND OF BILLY BEAD
Love was lost and one heart grew sour,
Due to one groom’s roving eye.
He should’ve been wise, swallowed his pride,
And apologized to his bride.
Because she lost her mind, then he lost his life,
There was no second dance.
His bride waved her hand and said the words;
He never stood a chance.
Now when the moon is full and the ocean mourns
And the owl flies in the sky,
Pain and grief fill the lonely church
Where Billy Bead does lie.
Meanwhile, back here at the blog, the hits just keep on coming. Here’s what’s on tap for this week:
Tuesday, Oct. 22: Interview with humor author Ford Forkum
Wednesday, Oct. 23: Interview with biopunk author Brie McGill
Thursday, Oct. 24: Interview with audiobook narrator Bora “Max” Koknar
Friday Fiction, Oct. 25:
Excerpt: The Legend of Billy Bead by Cynthia Moyer
Excerpt: The Alien Bride by Brie McGill
Flash Fiction: Wraith by Cole Knightly
Excerpt: The Painting by Ryan Casey
Excerpt: The Sacrifices We Make by Saul Tanpepper
The Man had already cheated Death once this morning, so when he turned away from the radiant face of his wife and stepped off the porch and into the busy-bright flow of the September day, the crisp, loud clack of the hard rubber soles of his shoes on the sidewalk sounded to him like an affirmation of life and living and all things that are vibrant. The breathless air was crisp and clear. He held his gaze determinedly forward, in front of himself. A sort of a smile touched the corners of his face. Today will be different, he assured himself, even though he knew it wouldn’t be. Before he had even reached the front sidewalk, his footsteps sounded to him like the ceaseless ticking of a clock.
I was watching Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street yesterday, and naturally, it made me hungry for meat pies (happens to everyone, right?). So of course I had to make a pot pie last night – though I did use chicken rather than human meat. Wouldn’t it be fun though to make meat pies with fake human parts for a Halloween party? You’re welcome for that visual first thing on a Monday morning, by the way. That’s what you came for, right?
The hardest part was not giving in to the panic.
As she was dropped into the pit, Amy held her limbs stiff, twisting her body slightly when needed to adjust her course. It was imperative that her face and hands remain free. Her only hope.
The first web was just below, and she leaned away to avoid the sticky ropes. She wasn’t sure how many there were – no one was save the judges, and she had to catch one or be killed by the fall.
And yet, the farther she went, the more speed built up, which meant more vibration of the web when she landed.
The handbook said vibration was bad.
The boy was born in a room of unsettled means. The dirt on the floor rivaled the amount on the bedclothes, with the dust fwap, fwap, fwappin’ in the air, settlin’ into tired eyes, on tired shoulders, makin’ tired noses sneeze day in and day out. Those present stood in silence as the cord was cut, severin’ the babe from his human ties forever. A cloth soaked with blood was wrapped around the wee child moments before steely arms pulled him from his mother’s last embrace.
I love clowns – the creepier, the better. They’re so…dramatic. Take this innocent little guy, for example. He lives in my bedroom on the “off season”, keeping watch over my jewelry armoire, and watching me while I read in bed (he’s facing my pillow). Cute, isn’t he?