are a puzzle.

Fragments of colors and shapes

a jumble of letters, numbers and pictures in countless albums  fading with age and lack of care.


are a puzzle

 words hitched to other words


in stream of nonsense that will go  nowhere.


are puzzle

sitting in a box

on a shelf

in a room

nobody uses


The Abdominal Doctor and His Melting Face

RDP Friday: MELT

I begged, I pleaded, I swore to be the best 7 year old kid to have ever existed  if my Dad would just please, please, please take me to see ” The Abdominable Doctor Phibes. ”

My Dad would tell you I wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed so he made me repeat the title a few times.

” What is it about?”

I had heard about Dr Phibes on the playground and I struggled to put together the pieces, those magical pieces of a story together.  ” It’s about a guy whose face melts and his wife is dead but I think she isn’t because she is still pretty and he sneaks into someone’s house and  makes grasshoppers eat a lady’s face and the Police try to catch him but they can’t because he’s a Doctor and he’s smart. Also he can’t drive but someone else drives him around so he always gets away, oh yeah, I think he’s dead but not like his wife. He looks dead. So I’m sure he is dead and his wife is not”

” You’re making this up.”

” No. It’s real. Please take me. Please, please, please! I won’t ask you to take me  anywhere again!”

As a rule, my Dad never took me to the movies or anywhere else where he didn’t have another adult to stick me with and if we did go anywhere together  it was to McDonalds or KMart and the deal was- I kept my mouth shut. So I figure he’d jump at the chance to ditch me once and for all and take me to the theatre where I could see Doctor Phibes and eat popcorn.

In the end despite my great description of the movie, complete with me acting parts out  I did NOT get to see Doctor Phibes.

My Dad took my younger brother who was traumatized by the movie and had nightmares ( Lucky dog, I remember thinking- I LOVED having nightmares) and my Dad went on to see all the Phibes movies.

I never got over that and I never understood it either.

So today I am posting this clip movie because it’s Friday- and Friday’s were made to watch spooky movies and I’m posting it because I want to make sure that nobody else is denied the chance to see one of the best horror movies EVER.


Photo A.M. Moscoso

We all know at least one child like Diwa Bell – some of us may have been like her in temperament ( quiet, thoughtful and well mannered to a fault ) and could be counted on- even at the young age of 11 to get her homework done and her bed made without being asked.

She feeds her pets at the same time each day, she gives them fresh water and leaves a post it on the refrigerator door to her parents attention when they are running low on food and she can be counted on to do last minute tasks for her Aunts and Uncles or important tasks like helping her Grandmother with chores at her house.

Last Saturday one of Diwa’s Aunties was supposed to take Grandmother Maria her weekly ‘care package artfully packed inside of a lunch box cooler.

As usual, Inside the sturdy little cooler with happy smiling turtles marching around the sides, was homemade butter with strawberries stamped on the top of the little golden ball, pink salt ( Diwa didn’t get that, it tasted like salt but the  color was pretty ) a selection of homemade fruit flavored salsas and thin water biscuits.

And of course there was always a selection of macaroons in Grandmother’s favorite colors- pink and purple.

Auntie Hyacinth was like Diwa, thoughtful, kind and well mannered to a fault and her baskets were always picture perfect.

On this particular Saturday  one of Auntie’s neighbors had an issue with her car and Diwa found a post it on the fridge door Saturday morning  asking if she wouldn’t mind stopping by Grandmother’s to drop off the care package and maybe spend a little time with Grandmother.

Diwa made a little note under the message and told her Mother she was off for the day and would be home before dinner, she stuck it to the door and went upstairs to get ready and a little while later she set out for Grandmother’s House.

There were two pluses to walking to Grandmother’s House.

One was that the walk wasn’t very long and second Diwa had to pass by a lot of gardens full of flowers and fake wells stuffed with more flowers and of course there were the fake deer and gnomes,  frogs ( the frogs were usually wearing crowns ), rabbits ( standing next to baskets of carrots )  and plastic Virgin Marys and Lawn Jockeys  galore.

Diwa loved those still, quiet and attentive plastic creatures, she always hoped against hope one of them would twitch an eye or move just a teeny tiny bit and the- well, Diwa wasn’t sure about the ” and then ” part but she it didn’t play in her thoughts.

For very long.

Photo by Simon Sikorski on Pexels.com

Grandmother’s house was the nicest little house on her street.

It looked like a little cottage from a Christmas card and almost everthing in side of it- including the curtains that hung in the windows which Grandmother always kept open just a crack, even in the dead of winter.

Diwa gave three quick little taps on the door and pushed it open and she stood there waiting for Grandmother’s cheery hello- but the house was quiet, it smelled wonderful because today was the day Grandmother did her baking, but it was so quiet.

” Is that you Diwa?” Grandmother called from the back of the house ” I’m sorry sweetness, I had a very big night and I took a little nap.”

Diwa went to the kitchen and set her basket down- she resisted the urge to take  peak in the oven to see what Grandmother had planned for lunch because Grandmother had strict rules about opening the oven door when she was baking or roasting. It affected the cooking she said.

” Grandmother, what are you baking? It smells so- ” Diwa thought for a moment ” It smells so tasty. Is it chicken?”

She went out to the hallway that led to the back of the house and for a minute or two Diwa looked as still and carefully placed as one of the yard statues she enjoyed watching so much.

” Darling, come on back here will you? I need some help getting up. I’m a little stiff, like I said I had a very big night.”

Grandmother’s bedroom was a warm and cozy as the rest of Grandmother’s house and as always it smelled faintly of apples.

She was laying on her bed and her eyes were closed but she opened them when Diwa appeared at the door.

” There she is, there’s my lovely girl.”

Diwa smiled and went to her Grandmother’s side and looked down into her face.

” Grandmother, your eyes look so red, have you been crying?”

” No, no, I was out so late and they are just a bit tired and old like me. But they are still sharp my lovely. I can see you perfectly and right now, that is all that matters”

Diwa reached down and with one finger pushed a lock of hair away from her Grandmother’s brow and behind her ear ” Grandmother, those are such pretty earrings I’m glad you wore them today.  ”

” I wore them just for you. I know how fond you are of the Moon and the stars. You’re a romantic, just like me.”

Then Grandmother smiled and Diwa gasped. ” You have such a great smile Grandmother. It lights up the room.”

Grandmother sat up and swung her legs over the bed. ” Now my darling, it’s lunch time and I am very hungry. I’ve been in the mood for something special, something a little rich and it most certainly not is chicken. In fact, I was up all night putting it together.”

Diwa reached down to help her Grandmother up. ” What did you make?”

Grandmother leaned down and whispered into her ear, ” I’ve made Shepherds Pie. And if I timed it right he should be ready for us by now.”

Photo A.M. Moscoso


Inspired By The SFC Prompt: Fractured Fairy Story

My Beautiful Grotesque

Someone coaxed you gently

out of stone or clay

someone tried to give you life

from marble and sometimes paint.

They twisted your smile into a scream

they gave you the face of a beast

then they set you away or placed you up high

where gentle human eyes cannot reach.

But I will come up after you,

I will gently carry you down

I will give you a home among my cats and dog

and place you where it’s always warm.

I will name you beautiful grotesque

and you can call me the same.

I wasn’t forged in stone or clay

but sometimes I feel that way.