And So The Rabbit Said... Bergdorf Goodman Window photo by marisol diaz

'So much more dangerous is he who thinks he knows, than he who admits knowing nothing at all,' said the rabbit

His wisdom caused my stomach to flip with a jolt.

'Somethings are poisonous to the touch'

I considered his meaning and smiled at the thought

that I could be so wicked

That I could ever possibly be so much more than expected, deceptively small

Maybe I could be the Delphic captain of the Black Freighter.

Pin pricks of seductive coy began to cultivate around my brow

He suggested I consider the ribbon, and how quaint it would look tied to such a smug, pompous man's lapel...

Imagine such a powerful gift, such a seemingly innocent ribbon... a gift to end all gifts, ingested and adorned.

The rabbit had defined it all for me, the erudite victory was lastly to be mine.

On the morn I was to be wed, I awoke with great zeal to face the day

I tied a delicate white ribbon dipped in strychnine around a piece of English ivy...and topped it off with a fine oleander

A boutonnière for such a smart gent as you my love

and I smiled.

To see more holiday Window photos by me click HERE! - Amarettogirl

3ww prompt: Drain, Epic, Nibble

Love Slice Bergdorf Goodman window photo by marisol diaz

To see more holiday Window photos by me click HERE! - Amarettogirl

Pendulums in Bombay NY by marisol diaz

"I have all the time in the world...just because this is problematic now doesn't mean it will be later," said the mouse in a most serious and unabashed manner.

"Maybe when that body that houses your spirit is mature enough to reciprocate, you will come around and see me for the first time as what I really am."

Young Lady Amberdine looked off into the distance, blithely ignoring the mouse. Mice seemed to be everywhere around the kitchen these days, especially around the hearth. Maybe its getting too cold outside. Her eyes only trailed back to the little mouse because she noticed his cryptic little hand gestures. Amberdine excused the distracting little mouse and his peculiar movements for some sort of self-cleaning ritual and deliberately returned to her daily preoccupations. In her reverie she thought, 'Maybe my animal is a whiptail lizard- a whole civilization of females that reproduce by cloning themselves and no males are necessary or existent?'

Early that morning, Amberdine came face to face with her toad-of-a-bully cousin, a boy for whom the words 'insolent' and 'crude' must have been invented for. He and his snake-eyed mother, Amberdine's aunt Evol, were visiting for the weekend. In what seemed like the only dose of energy this boy had all morning, he wickedly pulled at Amberdine's hair undoing the complex arrangement her ladies had just spent hours on. Whipping across the table he also stole her precious locket. The locket had been sitting on the table where Amberdine had toiled cutting small images to place inside.

However, the locket had been returned to her bedside. How was a mystery to Amberdine since she had purposefully locked her bedroom door after the fiend had attacked her. She tied the key around a ribbon that she hung under her dress, around her waist. The last time she checked it was still there.

Of Course, Amberdine would have no way of knowing it had been the little mouse who had rescued the locket. The little mouse saw the boy-toad running out to the field with the locket where he attempted to burn and bury it. Amberdine also had no way of knowing that her salacious cousin was deathly afraid of mice. As the boy-toad bent down to the ground to dig up a hole of dirt, the little mouse came storming towards the boy's reptilian nose with the sheer bravery of a nobleman and he bore his teeth down onto a wad of the boy's flesh.

All young Lady Amberdine knew was that someone had entered her locked room to return the locket. She deduced that her boy-toad cousin was simply too stupid to figure out how to enter her locked room. Instead, she was convinced it must have been her Aunt Evol. This aunt had such a malign ghastly look of sour death to her contorted features that it took Amberdine some courage to face her about the locket.
Sure enough Aunt Evol was shocked and aghast with the accusations about her innocently demure, weak and wounded son. In a flash, she threatened to banish Amberdine from the family inheritance, but not before she turned her into the ANIMAL she truly was. This of course is how we get to why Amberdine was day-dreaming about whiptail lizards and how of course the little mouse (who really wasn't a mouse at all) came to be a mouse with a collection of pendulums.

You see, not really being a mouse, the tiny critter was deeply in love with Amberdine. He knew that his 10th pendulum would break Aunt Evol's spell on his unfortunate life. And if you didn't already know, pendulum's became a symbol of the time he had to wait to profess his love to Amberdine, only four more to go.

3ww prompt: Earnest, Layer, Reactive

title: This Use To Be My Living Room, photo from On Dying Series by marisol diaz

I was born in the pandemonium of urban blood clots, but somehow I escaped. I've traveled much since then, through the arteries and veins of this rural heartland and I have to tell you that I've seen the decay. Sometimes its slow and benign, yet too often its malignant and devastating. Like the rings around a cut tree's trunk I can see the years of this state's life spiraling before me. And I am but an earnest microcosm of its day. I sit around your brittle, chafing, chipping brick and peel a layer of a earthy flesh back to see the ache. I wonder why all political repairs have been cosmetic when cosmetics are the most short-lived, insignificant aspects of living, to the blind.

"yeah" you say "but it's the seeing who are misled, who are ingenuinely reactive, who are truly blind."

I sit and contemplate your words. All I know is the saddest thing about all those homes dying and business's closing are that new hearts, dreams and passions are not moving in their place, instead those structures are sitting there, rotting, leaving the land marred with memories that like stains are impenetrably residual.

untitled by marisol diaz

That callous reality sets in every day around 4pm.
She makes her living by constantly admonishing
my imagination.
Persistent in trying to rid you of my possibility.
I sit alone in the car, driving lost and entertaining my fabrications,
weaving one thread across the other.
Creating a whole world of fictitious opportunities when...I've come to a stop
and she comes striding in, slamming the passenger door with that
smug glower

Sometimes she looks like laughing children,
an unlocked chain on a door,
or a spinning wedding band,
other times she looks like my best friend.
Still she's there to cut the tether
The feelings are nothing but frustration and mockingly all self-imposed.
Ridiculous really for reality to interfere with what is not and
what will never be.
Still I'm hopeful that the world I create in my dreams one day,
somehow, have something,
a touch, a path, a response or a resonance to do with
my waking day.