story time

I sat by the campfire, warming my hands;

embers sparking, colorful hues of ultra-heated red,

Saying a prayer for the fallen stars over head,

Placing palo santo among the flames;

Wafting an air of mystery into the night.

Gypsy wanderer, cloaked in green;

Heralds a message as yet unseen,

Drawing from her satchel of white;

Thirteen cards in the dead of night.

By light of fire she reads them all,

Weaving tales from pictures called,

By many names across time and space;

A fortune famed in any place.

21 thoughts on “story time

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    1. Yes and no.

      Don’t tell anyone {lol}

      My work is an amalgam of real life experience & fiction.
      Have you heard of the Society for Creative Anachronism?

      *raises hand* I’m a gypsy that got picked up by the flotilla.
      (Dances by fire to drum circle)

      Like

      1. At 40k words, you’re halfway there. (More than half, actually.)
        What would it take to get you the rest of the way to published?
        Seeing the full story from start to finish, would be a.m.a.z.i.n.g.

        In corrections, you have the unique perspective of seeing the effects of the Social Determinants of Health, the inequities, and the human condition on a daily basis.

        In sum, SDoH is Amos 5:11
        Getting you published is Isaiah 41:31 (or 41:13)
        Both from KJV.

        Ponder that, and let the story continue.
        Also, that is a swank hat, and groovy earthenware series of cups.
        Cheers, and be well; fill the cups with joy.
        Today & all days.

        Like

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