15.10.07

Blogging for Accord Hospice: Day 88

I'm sorry if this story disappoints, but I wanted to try something different--so I wrote a story, with many words that are actually anagrams of my name. Once again, I have a bad case of writer's block, and this is a trick an English prof told me about, a few years back. I've never tried it before, and probably never will again, judging by the result, ha-ha. So, I am sorry if this story seems a bit silly and confusing. But one only truly fails, if one never even tries, ey?

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accord.org.uk

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DAY 88

STORY #88

The Beach Crashers

The Bay Channel Ghost was pleased. All the tourists had gone--- he had the beach shanty to himself--or so he thought. But then, the Banyan Lech ghost came along, and brought his weirdo forth-dimension friends with him. And, they even brought their dirty washing with them!

Hanging from the shanty’s gable hatch was the beach gnat’s nylons, and, Baa Lynch’s thong! Ab the gnome whigned he was hungry, and Banyon yelled, “Go bangle yer nachos!” “Aye,” said Baa, “Ab’s nacho is lengthy.” The Bay Channel Ghost quickly booked a holiday at a haunted castle for some peace and quiet.

Accorrd Hospice Blog: Story #87

Sorry once again for the delay in posting today's installment. Blame it on a combination of writer's block, exhaustion and having the commitment to Blog Action Day...but here it is, at last. Please accept my thanks for visiting this blog, and for supporting the wonderful work of Accord Hospice in Paisley, Scotland. Visit Accord online here:
www.accord.org.uk


Gypsy Dancer

Wallace rose from the poorhouse, to become one of the wealthiest men of the age, thanks to an invention he’d made. He was living in one of the grandest homes in all the shires. But, he was alone. The peerage shunned him, his peers thought him above them, so Wallace kept to himself.

He spent his evenings, staring at a painting he’d bought in Venice: a life-size portrait of a gypsy dancer. Standing there, he whispered sadly, “I wish you were real.” As he turned, and slowly walked away, a tiny teardrop fell from a corner of the gypsy’s eye.