I was propositioned by a drug dealer yesterday…

Did that grab your attention?  Good.  It was supposed to.

But, there is more to the story than that.  So, let’s look at a few more details of the situation.

It happened at the community college across the street from my house.  While I don’t live in the nicest neighborhood, I was still a bit surprised when the nice man said hello and asked if I wanted to buy some weed.  It is, after all, a college campus…

Okay, so that doesn’t really work as an argument either way does it.  A place of education and partying…  But, still, I often frequent the school and it had never happened before.  Plus, it was daylight, not yet dinner time.  And it was a bit unsettling that he was so forward about the transaction he wished to make.

So, okay, while that threw me off a bit, it certainly didn’t help that I was jogging.  Out for some fresh air and exercise.  The campus has an attached sporting complex that offers a nice little loop I can run around.  And, I was on my way home.  Hot.  Sweaty.  Tired.  And, he thought I’d be interested in buying from him in that state?

I wondered if he’d had much luck selling to runners before.  I also wondered how many people out for a jog carry cash with them, because I don’t.  Was I just in the right/wrong place at the right/wrong time?  Was I close enough to his normal clientele that he thought he could maybe get a sale from me?

Which brings us to the oddest bit of the whole scenario.  I wasn’t alone.  I was pushing the Little Prince in the jogging stroller.  Dad and toddler out for some afternoon sunshine and playtime.  There is a park next to the sporting complex where the kiddo can run wild for a few minutes while I catch my breath and get ready for the run home.

So, if we revisit one of my earlier questions: Are father’s out for a jog, pushing their child in a stroller, this man’s normal clientele?

The whole interaction, lasting the two seconds I was within earshot of the man, seemed wrong.

But, funny too.

I wonder if he was serious or just trying to be humorous…

What is the oddest situation you’ve been in where somebody asked you something inappropriate?

Revis and Matticus Save the Kingdom Chapter 27

They ran through the forest for nearly an hour before finally stopping for a break. Matticus slumped against a tree, trying to catch his breath. Revis knelt down, his gaze on the ground. Suddenly, the Knight cried out and began punching the forest floor.

Matticus looked at Revis in confusion. “Did the vampires figure out a way to make the ground sparkly?”

After shooting the Jester a look that said that the sarcasm was not appreciated, Revis responded, “I hate having to leave them like that.”

“Then why did we? We could’ve stayed and helped them fight those bastards off.”

“Steph was right. We needed to go. What would happen to the Kingdom if one, or both, of us died while trying to protect those people? “

Matticus gave a slight nod, conceding the point. Although, he hated it as much as his Knight did. “What now,” he asked.

“It’ll take much too long to walk to Long Beach,” Revis sighed, digging around in his pack.

After a few seconds, he pulled out a jar of black ink. Looking around, he found the largest tree he could see. He took a paintbrush out and dipped it into the ink. Revis quickly used the brush to draw an outline of a door, knob included. The Knight reached to grab the doorknob.

Matticus was about to tell his Knight how crazy he was acting, but to his surprise, Revis was able to grab the knob and turn it. The door swung open revealing the swirling colors of the roads of magic where there should have only been the inner rings of the tree.

“Another leap of faith,” Matticus muttered as he let his face go slack jawed in surprise, mimicking the expression he knew his Knight wanted to see.  Shaking his head in disbelief he let his gaze slide from the tree to the jar of ink to Revis’ bag and back to the tree.

“What?”  Revis asked.

“Another portal?  Matticus replied smoothly.  “Where does it go?”

“Wherever we need it to.”

The Jester peered around the Knight to gaze into the maelstrom of colors, trying to decipher where it’s exit might be but only getting dizzy in the process.  He looked away before the compulsion to fall over grew too strong to fight and focused on his Knight’s last words to bring himself back into the present.

“Wherever we need it to.  Wherever we need it to…  Wait a minute!”  Matticus grabbed the jar of ink from Revis’ hands.  Fuming, he asked, “You’ve had this all along?  Why didn’t we use this to get to Bruges in the first place?  How many miles did we walk that we didn’t have to?”

“I haven’t had this the whole time. I picked it up when we were world hopping. Wakko gave it to me when we went to the Animaniacs universe.”

“I don’t remember going to the Animaniacs universe…”

“Well, we couldn’t fit them all into the story, so a few of the universes got left out.”

“Yeah, but if you got this new thing from it, that means it’s an important plot point. Shouldn’t we have included it?”

“If I wanted logic, I wouldn’t be talking to a jester,” Revis sighed. “Besides, it’s too late. That part of the story is already published. We can’t add it now.”

Before Matticus could respond, Revis shoved him through the portal. As the bright light from the doorway assaulted his vision, the Jester vowed to stop letting Revis shove him through portals. It was getting a little old.

When he exited out the other side, he found himself staring face-to-face with two dragons. Normally, that situation would’ve scared him to death, but, since he recognized them as Rara and Grayson, he cried out in joy. He knew that meant his family was near.

“See, I told you they were still alive,” Rara said, throwing her husband a look of triumph and smiling happily.

Matticus thought she looked like she was about to go skipping along, which was a sight he wasn’t sure he wanted to see.  While he was sure it would be awe-inspiring, it also seemed terrifying.

“Okay, you won the bet, I’ll settle up later,” Grayson grumbled.

Matticus’ expression of joy lost a touch of its luster as confusion settled in, “Wait, what?”

Before either dragon could answer, Revis popped through the portal, nearly tumbling into the Jester, and if not for Grayson’s quick reflexes to use his tail to steady them, both Jester and Knight would have gone tumbling down in a heap.  The men found their balance and the dragon withdrew his tail allowing them to stand on their own again.

Matticus glared at his knight, for nearly knocking him over and pushing him through the portal, but his mood would not be deterred, so he looked back up to Rara, “It is good to see you but I’m sure you know who I’d really like to see right now.”

“Of course, Matticus,” she replied, “shortly, but first you need to meet with Deb and Dani, so we can coordinate our overthrow of the sparkly vampires.”

The two men started following Rara as she led them to Deb and Dani. Revis was a little skeptical about their ability to help. He was the First Knight of the Kingdom, and he had never heard of them before. Matticus seemed to know them, however, so he decided to go along with it for now.

As they walked, Matticus kept peppering Rara with questions about what had happened while they had been away. She told him repeatedly that she would go over everything once their meeting had started, but he kept asking more questions anyways. Revis began wondering if Rara had infinite patience. If he was in her position, he would’ve, at the very least, threatened Matticus until he stopped asking questions.

Suddenly, Revis stopped. Matticus quit asking questions to Rara long enough to ask one to Revis. “What is it?”

“I’m about to get attacked,” he replied.

Before Matticus could ask him to clarify, something materialized out of thin air to jump at Revis. The Knight caught it in his arms and brought it close to him. That’s when Matticus realized it was Revis’ daughter. He marveled at how the little girl, who was not yet even two years old, was able to sneak up on them like that.

“How did she do that,” he wondered out loud.

“Like father, like daughter,” Rara answered with a smile. “Come. He will know everything we say whether he is with us or not.”

The Jester and two dragons continued into Long Beach where they wound their way through alleys and shadows to stay out of sight as much as possible until finally arriving at a business the Jester was unfamiliar with.  The signage proclaimed it to be a house of yards and he couldn’t come up with any conveyances where that name would make sense and so found himself longing for a beer to soothe his aching head.

Once inside he saw that the building had been abandoned and enough of the furniture had been removed to make space for Rara and Grayson to fit comfortably.  Deb and Dani rose from where they had been seated and quietly conversing.   They quickly dispatched with their pleasantries and began discussing how best to overthrow the sparkly vampires.

Hours passed quickly and as the day turned over to begin anew, they finally came to an agreement on how to proceed.  Deb and Dani slipped away to whisper into the ears of their expanded networks.  The dragons flew off on their assigned tasks, and Matticus went to spend as much time with The Queen and Little Prince as he could before the signal would tear him away from them again.

time and space

He played all day in his room, from the moment he was excused from the breakfast table until he was called again for lunch, and then again in the afternoon until supper was placed on the table.  His parents worried about his antisocial tendencies but all attempts to get him to play with kids his age had ended poorly, with him in tears and the other children wondering what was wrong with him.  His mom had considered taking him to see a psychiatrist, but his father had convinced her that it was probably a phase he would grow out of if given the space and time to do so.

So, they had waited, and watched, and fretted, and years had passed and still he played with his toys and puzzles and cars and games, in his room, by himself.  His parents thought they had done something wrong, that they had somehow created a rift between him and normal society, that how he spent his days wasn’t really living at all.

It became a sad, personal, joke between them, that on the rare occasions when he was seen leaving his room on his own accord that there had been a ghost sighting.  “Did you see the ghost this afternoon?”  “Did you see that spirit sneaking food from the fridge?”  “Did you see that ethereal being wafting down the hallway?”  They were jokes, but neither of them ever laughed.

Their child was a ghost of the living, and it was all their fault.  They should have forced him to interact more.  They should have required him to spend more time outside, more time rumbling and tumbling with the neighbors, more time learning what it was to be a boy, to be alive.

Each time he asked to be excused and he pushed himself away from the table they hoped that would be the time he would ask if he could go outside and play.  And each time he dashed their hopes and disappeared into his room instead, they grew sadder and more distraught, distancing themselves from their own friends and lives until they too became ghosts.

The child had no understanding of his parents’ plight or sorrow.  He was happy as could be, building worlds, creating friends, running adventures, and allowing his rampant imagination the time and space to grow to its fullest potential.

Open Door Blue Sky



The curse of the introvert?  The gift of the creative?  Where others see a problem, there may not be something that needs to be solved at all…

This is in response to this week’s Inspiration Monday writing challenge:

Inspiration Monday logo

The Rules

There are none. Read the prompts, get inspired, write something. No word count minimum or maximum. You don’t have to include the exact prompt in your piece, and you can interpret the prompt(s) any way you like.


No really; I need rules!

Okay; write 200-500 words on the prompt of your choice. You may either use the prompt as the title of your piece or work it into the body of your piece. You must complete it before 6 pm CST on the Monday following this post.

The Prompts:






my journey

 photo path_zpsec0973a4.jpg
Photo Credit: islandtime

The parched ground of the ancient forest crunched under my boots.  A trail of prints disappeared into the gloom behind me, marking where I’d come from.  Ahead, the path continued deeper into the hazy half-light filtering through the expansive canopy.  My eyes ranged forward until the trees and trail merged into the darkness.

Silence walked with me as all other living creatures had fled the dying forest long ago.  The quiet was eery and left my nerves sparking for every flickering shadow and hint of movement among the still branches.  It felt like I was walking on holy ground and every step I took was an offense to those who had come before me.  I half expected Shardik to rush forth in his madness for daring to trespass in his final hunting ground.

That particular bear had died, though.  I was certain of that.  But, that knowledge didn’t help ease my tension and edginess.  I expected trouble around every bend.  I expected danger lurking behind each gnarled trunk.  Each mile further from sanctuary my mind increased its sensitivity to light and sound.

My footfalls were deafening roars.

The odd spaces of sunlight allowed to carry through to the forest floor radiated blindingly.

And, still, I continued on, into the heart of the woods, into the darkest parts of my journey.

When they’d heard of my quest, the Elders had warned me that the world had moved on.  I believed them then, and I saw the truth of their statements all around me, but that couldn’t reverse my resolve.  Fate, or destiny, or perhaps madness, had decided long ago that this was the path I was supposed to walk.  If that meant I had to move on, as the rest of this part of the world had, then so be it.


This picture seemed like it belonged in the world of gunslingers, roses, and dark towers, and everything you just read sprang from that initial feeling.

What do you see when you look at the picture?  What do you feel?

Write it, link it to the current Once More With Feeling challenge, and post it so we can all enjoy your response.

good idea

“You aren’t going to like my answer,” the cowboy grinned mischievously.

“I must know.”

“Well, since you insist,” he swept the old hat from his tired head and looked into the setting sun, “it seemed like a good idea at the time.”


Word Count: 42

This bit of silliness is in response to the current Garbleblaster (with more than a little homage to the movie “The Magnificent Seven”):

“Tell me something, old friend: why are you fighting?”

And you, dear kingdomites, why are you fighting?

Whatever it will be…



The Ugly Volvo

Attempts At Adulthood

Running On Sober

I'm not empty, just sober

AZ Gringa

"I Am The Just Right Webmaster."

The Monster in Your Closet

. . . is quite friendly, actually!

A Heart on the matter

Words from my heart

End Kwote

After it's all said and done, Life's just a bunch of kwotes

The Peanut Butter Table

All Weirdos Welcome

that cynking feeling

You know the one I'm talking about . . .

Exile on Pain Street

Straddling the Hudson River. One foot in NYC, the other in suburban New Jersey.


More than just another wiseass

History of a Woman

sharing her story, a day at a time

We Drink Because We're Poets

Pick Your Poison. Preach Your Passion.

readful things blog

An opinion on everything literary

Legends of Windemere

Enjoy the Adventure

Not a Punk Rocker

Embracing my dorkiness, embarrassing my kid & blogging for the hell of it.

memoirs of an unremarkable man

thoughts, dreams, hopes, wishes, and reminiscences


Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 2,556 other followers