Pink Made Her See Red


Once Upon A Time

I hade a friend who hated the color


She ranted about it, went off when she saw it anywhere, she always ended her tirades about how pink made her see red.

She truly hated the color pink.

Especially at Halloween-she said it should be outlawed at Halloween. It made her ill to see it in the fall.


The problem is, I always have pink  somewhere on my person or around me. It’s my favorite color. I love pink.

Begs the question, doesn’t it?

Was it the color pink she REALLY hated?


Explore The Color Pink

and other colors and art




The Last Storm




Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso

This is a story

 told in three pictures that I took on my way back to work today.

It’ s funny how you can walk by things everyday and  not really SEE what you’re looking at- and then one day you do.

Here’s the story  saw:

Fear this storm.

The last storm. 


Photo: A.M. Moscoso

Photo: A.M. Moscoso

Photo: A.M. Moscoso

Photo: A.M. Moscoso


The Knock On Maisie’s Door




Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt.

There was a knock on Maisie Grieves door late last night.

It thundered down the hallway to her sitting room and pounded against her ears and her chest with enough force to take her breath away.

She stood up from her chair, and walked towards her cold fireplace, her hands clutched to the front of her chest. ” Go away. Please go away.”

She heard it again.

And again.

And again.

” I can do this. I will do this. I will open the door and I will see who is there.”

Maisie walked slowly down the short dark hall to the front door.

 The knock became louder, more persistent, it insisted she move fast.

That she answer the door.

Maisie put her hand to the door, she lowered her head. ” Who is there?”

” It’s me. Where are you? ” she heard someone whisper. ” Are you there?”

Maisie nodded in the darkness.

” I’m here.”

Maisie Grieves reached for something leaning next to her door. And then she turned the knob with her free hand and the dark heavy door swung open and sunlight flooded the room behind her.

The room in front of her was a hospital room, the man on the bed looked through the people standing around his bed and he saw Maisie, scythe in her hand, her frame covered in her black shrouds, her face hidden in shadows.

 ” I’ve been waiting for you.” the man said from the bed. ” I’ve been waiting for you.”