"From childhood's hour..." that phrase, to Poe fans, finishes itself: "I have
not been as others were." Who was that man? Who was that the poet who had not
been as others were? So much has been fabricated about Poe's life, and remains
a mystery. We have little to go by: no diaries, no notebooks, only a few
daguerreotypes, and his letters, so carefully re-edited by Burton Pollin and
Jeffrey Savoye. But we do have something else: his home in Baltimore at 203 (3)
Amity Street. This collection, introduced by Dr. Barbara Cantalupo, offers a
range of stories from dark to light, from playful to pensive, and from hopeful
to horrific, a breadth of themes befitting the man best known for his
pioneering work to literature in ways unmatched by any since. The Spirit of
Poe, edited by WJ Rosser and Karen Rigley, includes two of the Master's works,
along with dozens of stories and poems from new and established authors. All
profits from its sale will be donated to the Poe House.
And now a message from our judge:
"What a pleasure to take the judging reins this week,
and not just because it means a breather from Motivation Monday's fierce
competition. I'm terribly excited to read what you come up with; I am certain
you will take the prompt places I'd never have imagined (like you always do).
Now pick up those sharpened #2 pencils and get to work!"
- The story must start from the prompt. This means the prompt must be the
first words in the story.
- No more than 500 words (not including the
prompt). No less than 100 words.
- Any genre (in fact an
unexpected genre will get you more points.)
- Entries must be submitted
by Tuesday Noon EST
- The winner of each week's competition will be
invited to judge the following week and post the winner's badge similar to the
one on the right.
- Have fun!
By Wakefield Mahon
The sign read “No Howling”.
Remind me to add literacy to the list of talents to teach the puppy. My wife brought home a two-year old Rottweiler/ Doberman this weekend. He has the brawn of a Rottie, the bravery of a Dobie and all the brains of a Labrador retriever.
I’m not sure which was more embarrassing, the fact that DJ was howling at the moon like a werewolf in heat, or that the “moon” he was serenading was on the marquee of the newest strip club in town, Full Moon (now there’s an original name for you).
When a tall lanky woman stalked out the door and towards us, I tried to yank on his harness but DJ set stubbornly in place. It was hard to tell in the dark, but I had the feeling his hackles were raised.
“Excuse me, can’t you read the sign?”
Lack of sleep exacerbated my naturally snide nature - DJ had kept me up the previous night pacing. I gave an exasperated sigh. “Sure, I can read just fine. But little DJ here is still having trouble with his ‘N’s.”
The woman’s hard expression gave a slight upward tick. “A man should never have a dog he can’t control. It’s very unsexy. Tell your ‘little DJ’ this is a place of business. He’s disturbing my customers.”
Unintentionally, I glanced over her. Her face looked as if she’d lost more than one knife fight. And her body? Well, let’s just
say she made aeon flux look positively plump.
Her grim smile turned up into a snarl. “Yes, genius, I’m the manager. But I assure you I get plenty of play. Now, why don’t you and your pup run along before I lose my patience?”
I pulled on the lead but DJ started growling.
Heat rolled off the woman as she growled back and lunged forward with teeth that were anything but human.
Full Moon, feral expression, anxious dog… werewolf? I yanked my silver cross from my neck and held it in front of DJ.
Faster than I could blink she grabbed the necklace and tossed it down her throat. “I prefer gold, but I’ll forgive your insolence since you offered me a gift.”
“What are you?”
She burped and burst of flame erupted from her mouth. “Silver always gives me indigestion.” Her skin began to turn
red and scaly and her took on a catlike shape.
DJ yelped and finally took off down the road. I gladly let him drag me. What are dragons doing in a place like this?
426 ineligible words