You can imagine my surprise when I found out in February that Visual Verse published my story in November without me knowing it. I know I read the whole issue. Maybe it was added additionally or lost and found. Either way, it’s there now.

Btw, I thought the photo prompt was unusual to say the least and rather hard to put into words so my first reaction was to pass. However, I couldn’t get it out of my head, and eventually went back. I’m happy I did. The motto of the story – Giving up is not an option.

You can read my contribution to the November 2018 issue of Visual Verse here.

Tell the story challenge

Damn those challenges! Though I’m always pressed for time, I can’t resist a good one, especially when it’s visual. I was challenged by lovely Kim whose blog I Tripped Over a Stone, which, among other things, helps us understand her everyday struggle with fibromyalgia, is a must. Along the way, you’ll get to know a charismatic person, a fighter, a lifelong learner and a great writer, who, if you’re lucky like myself, you will be honored to call a friend.


Here you go, my dear. Hope you’ll like it.

pic sword.PNG



Before the light faded behind western
hills, Mama told me of ferocious
animals that hunt for a living, much worse
than earthly dragons and water demons
some swear on their lives to have seen

she said i’d meet fierce-looking
monsters in not so legendary a form
hiding in the darkest corners with
their corked mouths and balls of fire
snarling and snapping at me

when you see them, imagine wearing
a deep blue hood the color of ripe plums
over your head as deadly as a long
sword-like extension of your upper jaw
to frighten the demons away


I challenge three ladies who I think the world of, both as human beings and writers:

Basilike (Silent Hour)

Angela (Heart Breathings)

Susan (Stories From the Edge of Blindness)


My photo prompt for the challenge:



The genre is entirely up to you. To quote Kim, there’s no time restraints on this. Do it if you can, I’ll wait, no problem!


An adrenaline-seeking town dressed in red and white
runs down the cobblestone streets like a hungry river

in the fierce heat of the Mediterranean sun
enraged bulls show no mercy

to those who slip and fall
who slip and fall

a ruthless wolf pack in San Fermin
with days passing between feedings

locates, singles out
and stalks

its prey from a distance
staying out of sight until it’s ready to attack

not a deer, not a moose
not a bison, not an elk

but a beaver, feeble and sightless,
breathing the air of placid sufficiency

opportunistic feeders, unable to retain saliva
within their mouths, circle and test before

bringing the victim to the ground
the conquest of paradise

the animal does not die of blood loss or shock
but of shame