We Were Here


Today I was out walking my dog and we ended up by the Playfield- the Playfield used to be ” The Woods ” where me and the neighborhood kids played games and built forts, where we drank and smoked and we walked there or rode our bikes because in  those days we didn’t have Malls or cellphones or parents who drove us three blocks to school or a mile away to visit our friends.

Sadly most of the ” The Woods” have ended up like this:

Photo A.M. Mososo

Photo A.M. Moscoso

The funny thing is they felt like ” The Woods” again when I altered the pictures:

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Call me sentimental,but I think that’s the way The Woods want to be remembered- and who am I to question that?


Drop Dead Death

Photo A.M. Moscoso


Alone with the Reaper

hello Mr Death

I thought you’d be around one day

and spend some time with me

You visited my


my cat my cousin my friend

You  passed me by without a glance

like my crush back in the eighth grade


Tired of this dance we do,

of the songs we don’t sing, the walks we don’t take

Hello Mr Death

you’re of afraid of me

I think.


Bill Traylor

Daily Post Prompt: Knackered

The Strange Day of A.M. Moscoso

My bus ride home from work in Seattle isn’t a bad ride, it’s not even a boring ride.

Some people   I ride with are interesting- we talk about movies, books, our pets what we have planned for the weekend, there are people I don’t talk to but I do watch because they always look angry or bored  but my personal favorites are the people who are determined not let anyone sit next to them.

It’s a little mini-drama, each time the bus stops to let people on the drama begins.

Will the next person on board sit next to them? Will they not sit next to them? Will they drop dead before they get a chance to sit next to them? Should I get up and sit next to them at the last minute just when they think they have the entire seat to themselves because sometimes I feel like quite the little devil?

Today I was lucky- a Mom and her little boy, who looked to be around six years old sat next to me on the long bench seat at the front of the bus.

She had a pierced tongue and he was dressed in jeans and a nice white t-shirt, he had an old school crew cut  and he was wearing brand new Carhart boots.

They looked like they had walked out of two different time streams- he from the 50’s, she was a biker chick from the late 90’s.

They both started to compare the bus to the way the bus smelled like a Bus Station bathroom right after they had cleaned it, in fact the bus she said smelled like urinal cakes and her son agreed..

The people sitting across from us ( One lady was one of my ‘ this is my seat, darn you, walk on ) looked offended.

I laughed and agreed because you know, when the air conditioner went on the bus did smell like a freshly cleaned public bathroom.

After we chatted about the way the bus smelled we moved on to another topic and we bonded:

The little boy asked me if I liked ” The Minions ” and I said that I did. I told him I loved the movies, had the toys and I had gotten a Minion t-shirt from my Mom for Christmas.

The little boy and his Mom had a Kindle with the Minions game on it and I watched him play.

He showed me a few things and when his turn was up he gave it to his Mom for her turn and he looked at me right in the eye, which I liked.

” Who is Shaymus? he asked me.

That was when my bus ride took a little side trip.

” Who?” I asked.

” Is he your dog?”

” Is who my dog?”

I saw his Mom give us the side eye from her game, she was all ears.

” Shaymus. ” he said. He looked at me again and then he said carefully. ” Saymus?”

” My dog is named Hamish” I told him.

Photo A.M. Moscoso


I didn’t ask him how he knew that, I didn’t at that time wonder if I knew the boy and his Mom or if they had ever rode the bus before and over heard me talking about my dog. I just looked at him and waited for the next question.

” What’s your cat’s name?” he asked.

” Darwin.” I said.

He looked skeptical.

I have three cats and I love them dearly but my cat Wolfgang who passed away it 2008 at the age of 17 is always on my mind.

It was a teeny fib on my part and we both new it.

The little boy looked straight into my eyes and through the back of head.

He touched my arm and said there were other games on his Kindle he could show me.

I took it as a peace offering of sorts.

Then it was his turn at Minions and he insisted on showing me some moves on the screen and I left the Twilight Zone because it was time to leave. I can’t believe I did that so quickly, but there are times when you listen to that little voice in your head and things for the most part turn out well for me when I do.


I could  speculate about the little boy and our conversation about  Hamish and my Cat whose name I held back to see what would happen because playing devilish games is what I do sometimes.

I enjoy writing about the odd,the Macabre, I love to look at life through a fun house mirror.

And to turn a phrase-

Sometimes those things look into me.


Photo: AM. Moscoso



Grow Up

” What do you want to be when you grow up?” asked one of my family members who should have  known  better then to ask me a question that demanded a sensible answer.

Or maybe they did know better, but at the time we were at my Aunt’s house and she had recently put in a wine cellar that was apparently well stocked with some high end stuff and most of the adults had made more then one trip down there for ‘wine tasting’.

I thought about it.

” A Werewolf.”

” Be serious.”


” I want to go to college and fly spaceships.”

” Good for you.”

I saw my Dad and one of his cousins standing in the doorway to the living room.

They were popping my Aunt’s homemade Bourbon Balls into their mouths. They were also looking at me like they were about to watch a train wreck and they could not, no matter how hard they tried- to look away.

They were also snickering.

” I want to go to college, fly spaceships but mostly I want to be a werewolf.”

” Anita, that’s the silliest thing you’ve ever said.”

My dad.took time away from getting hammered on candy and wine and said, ” No it isn’t. Not by a long shot.”

” From your lips to God’s ear Bert.” His cousin said.

I remember looking at them standing there and had I known the saying back then  I would have said,

” Challenged Accepted.”

Sometimes we get wrapped up in the expectations and trapped in a cage of ideas that our families put us into- and you can’t fight it, you can resign yourself to it…

or you can celebrate the hell out of it.

Guess what I’ve done.

Daily Post Prompt: Blanket

From My Grave

They buried me deep

in an unmarked grave

near a ditch on a road

with no number no name


I think they dream of me

and I dream of them

I think they hear me calling

from my grave

near a ditch

on the road with no number no name


” She’s nothing but bones,

maybe some hair or a shoe ”

She’s gone forever

they scream in their dreams

swept away like dead leaves

whispering across a road with no number, no name.


But I’m wrapped tight,

held down tothe Earth

from the  roots from a tree

and sometimes I feel cold

when there is a cool breeze


I think that one day

I may just crawl from my grave

I think I’ll find my way back

from my unmarked grave

near a ditch

on a street with no number and no name


Daily Post Prompt: Roots

Everybody Loves You ( When You’re Dead )

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Do you know what I like about Monday?

Photo: A.M. Moscoso

Absolutely nothing.

Photo A.M. Moscoso

I’m glad it’s gone

and it’s not coming back for for a week.

Come to think of it, right now I’m loving Monday

I think it could be my favorite day of the week.

From ” I Claudius” TV Series

Sejanus: [about Germanicus] Well, if he’s profoundly loved he’s also profoundly dead. There’s nothing wrong with loving the dead. Everybody’s loved when he’s dead

Livia: I wouldn’t count on that if I were you.

Daily Post Prompt: Zip

She ( has always ) Fought Like A Boss

When I was about six years old my Dad’s cousin bought a puppy.

” Nicky” as we called him was as sweet as he was big.

Nicky turned out to be pretty big when he was full grown:

But my story starts here:

Shortly after this picture was taken our family was together for a holiday event and we were all in the backyard when I asked if I could hold Nicky’s leash. I was walking around the yard with Nicky when my Dad whistled for Nicky and Nicky who for his own reasons would spend  his life thinking he was a puppy around my Dad took off like a shot.

He pulled me right off of my feet ( considering I was a shrimpy  little kid that was no surprise) and I held on to his leash while he dragged me across what seemed like a thousand acres of lawn right to my Dad’s feet.

” Why didn’t you let go?” I remember everyone asking me.

I looked back at them with the same look they were giving me. That look  said – ” did you loose your single brain cell or did you just forget to bring it along.”

The answer was obvious I said with the leash still firmly clenched in my hand.

” I didn’t want him to get away.”

I handed the leash over and dusted myself off and spit a bit of turf out of my mouth and I’m sure I didn’t just walk off.

I probably swaggered away,  like a boss.


Daily Post Prompt: Avid


Yes this is a true story!

Here’s some info about my cousin John and Nicky:

Shoreline man honored with AKC Lifetime Achievement Award


RIP Once and For All

People have done some pretty horrific things to their dearly departed to make sure that they would stay dead.

The most well known method involved spikes and stakes- and unlike the bodice ripping scenes lovingly embraced by modern day Vampire devotees, it seemed that the preferred method was to pry open your jaws and ram a  spike or rock into your mouth.

I’ve also heard they also buried some people face down so that in a frantic effort to escape from the grave to feed on their relatives, the Vampire would dig down and starve to death  ( again ) in the process.

So in itself, it’s an awful  that people were doing these things corpses.

Worse, they were not doing things thing to strangers or monsters that invaded their homes-

they were doing it to the people they knew and had loved.


Daily Post Prompt: Spike

Cut It Out Anita Marie


I enjoy

dark humor

gallows humor

whistling by graveyards

where I will

dance upon grave after grave


Friday the 13th

Black cats and breaking mirrors

just to hear you scream:

Anita Marie… you’re a devil!

And I will take you hand and say as gentle

as a dry leaf landing on an dark lifeless street.

” I’m not a Devil, I’m the Devil and you’re my evening treat.”

Daily Writing Prompt: Chuckle