I may have colorful wings or flap in a hypnotic way But no one understands How tomatoes and I alike Both misunderstood Both thought to be something we are not Tomatoes are a fruit You can tell by the seeds I don’t have seeds but still like a tomato Thought to be a butterfly But I’m not a butterfly I am moth

The desert silence held ancient whispers… The sound of the wind brushing over the sand… Pulling the grains above the warm earth… They pierce the plants that rise above eye level… Filling the air with a symphony of swishing and pitter patters… The lonely cry of a lonely coyote calling for its long lost mate joins the canopy… The swish of a wing rises to join the growing noise… A slither of a king cobra wrangles in the tast of its dawn prey… A single set of footprints lead away from the rising sun, turning towards the vast orchestra of the desert… Tuning in to the noise turns the art block to inspiration… The writers dull words suddenly turn to bright shining stars…

Sorry, I haven’t written much!

Falling feels like flying until the moment you land.

It feels like the edge of your bed, and that moment in between panic and euphoria.

Like breathing in before you realize you are underwater.

Like when you imagine a world where the sky is blue for you, but before that’s just the way it is.

It’s in the garage… Ah-ha! That’s where it is! Like a filtered pond! Clear and clean Like a bubble Shiny and sparkly Like a fire Bright and happy

As soon you turn you will find a cliff. But don’t forget about the soil, I heard it’s slippery. Cautiously make your way down the side trail. Don’t worry about the plants along the path. Even if you watch your steps, be careful. Falling is a risk, but it’s worth it!! Go!! Hurry!! I belief in you 🍁!! Just run!! Keeping them waiting is a bad idea. Leave when the sunrises. Leave soon and leave quick. Most who stay longer end up no longer. Never leave without saying goodbye! Oh!! People who acknowledge their presence receive gifts!! Quickly!! Run, be free!! Stay longer and become a creation. Turn away from them. Understand them. Very good!! Wishing to stay will end in mutations. You will forever hope to leave when you see the habitat. Zoologists never let you leave.

I will not walk this earth without you I have no problem waiting I will stand here forever I will search the sky Looking for your star Hope to see your face in the sky I will search the ground Looking for your prints Hoping to see you toe beans imprinted in the dust I will search the air Looking for you hair blowing in the wind Hoping to catch a smell of you kitty cat sniff

One minute I smell purple, lavender, green and sage… the next the smell of black darkness surrounds me. I open my mouth to try and find the scent again. “No… no!” This can’t happen! Me and my family can’t live if I can’t smell! The darkness closes in around me. “Madam Wrenn?” Someone calls from the front of my small shop. “Coming!” Grabbing my cane I tap my way to the front desk. I hear a small gasp as the customer sees my scarred eyes. “Your eyes…” the customer whispers. I can tell it is a woman, but there is something off about the way she sounds. Or maybe the lose of my smell is effecting my thoughts. “How may I help you?” “Yes! Uhm… I am here for the Purple Rain.” This makes me suspicious. “That one is not on the shelf yet.” Something clicks and I feel ice cold metal put to my throat. “The Purple Rain?” “Of course… follow me.” The Purple Rain is a perfume that controls minds. Made with gold, mercury and peanuts. Add a touch of color and bipity bopity boo! Mind control. The knife presses into my lower back. “If you want the perfume, then I need my cane.” The woman allows it. I grab my weathered stick and tap the ground in front of me. “Is that sound really necessary?” “Well, I’m still working on my echo location, so yes.” She sighs, and we make our way to the other room. “Who are you?” I ask. Easier to not feel guilty if she doesn’t answer. “That’s non of your concern.” “I’m sure.” We arrive at the end of our journey. “The Purple Rain is still a work in progress.” “Then why on earth did you let me come back here?!” “Eh… easier to bust your kneecaps.” Before she has time to react to what I said I whack my handy dandy cane into the side of her knee. “Aah!” I rush towards the exit grabbing as many things as possible. But I can’t find what I’m looking for!!! All I can smell is darkness!! Huffing and sniffing as hard as physically possible, I try to find the cure to my problems. The Chadazzle. A perfume made only to fix sight issues. No matter the problem. Spraying in my face I feel a tingle and my world brightens.

THE END

I don’t know how it started. All I know that I’m dead. Not physically but I’m heading to a grave of if I go back up those stairs. It all started when I went to the basement of our new house. I saw a window. In the basement. And me, being the cat that got killed by curiosity, opened it. And a leather bound book fell on the floor. I reached down to pick it up, you know, because that’s what you do, right? I started when I saw the pictures. It was obviously a little kid’s drawing. And the writing above it chilled my blood. “Do not fret, my dear reader, I know you name. Your name is Halli.” The blood drawn face is my own. It’s like I’m looking in a blood drawn mirror. “Halli!” My husband shouts from stairs. “I’m… I’m a little busy!” “Ok! Come up when you can!” “Mhm…” I turn the page. “Don’t worry, my dear, Halli.” The dairy reads. I can’t breathe. I can’t think. The next line is depicting my body. In a ditch. “Halli!” I jump three feet in the air when Henry reaches around me for the dairy. “Whatcha got?” He sees my pale expression painted in blood on the page. “Oh, sugar, honey, iced tea.” Is all he manages to get out. The dairy drops to the ground. “H-Henry…? Who owned this place before us?” “I don’t know. I think some old couple…” The silence surrounding us is deafening. “Halli?” “Yeah?” “Wake up, Halli!” “What?” “Halli!” I jerk awake. We are still in our apartment. Everything is fine. Nothing is out of place. “Finally! The truck is here.” Henry says as he peeks through the doorway. “What?” The dream clings to me. “You know, the truck? The one we rented to help us move?” Memories of the past few weeks flood back. “Oh, yeah. Is it too late to back out?” “Of moving? Absolutely not! I didn’t want to anyways!” I sigh in relief. “But Halli?” “Yes, Henry?” “Where did you get the dairy? Did you put the paintings in it?” My blood freezes. He tosses me a leather bound journal. The one from my dream.

THE END

The TV screen shone bright Grey, red and black Add some yellow and orange Crashing sounds from the speakers Shaking us all up Wondering why Who How Two planes Crashing Destroying Changing trade Changing the world Changing you Changing me

(I know that it’s not September but I was reading a book about it and I wanted to make a tribute.)

I want to feel, I want to know I want to love, I want to grow I want to see, I want to flow I want to make, I want to be known I want to know you, I never want to feel low I want to fly, I want to glow I want you to know How much you make me grow The way you see And like a river you flow Since you’ve known About the felling of being low Your joy is its own kind glow Always be aware To you I will always owe The one thing that can’t be bought A heart for a day of you time