Wordgrove Post & Review

Quoted in the Grove:
Mankind are governed more by their feelings than by reason.
~Samuel Adams

The heart has reasons that reason does not understand.
~Jacques Benigne Bossuel

Cry as much as you want to, but just make sure when you’re finished, you never cry for the same reason again.
~Wiz Khalifa

~~

Posted from the Grove:
Things are about to get weird. October has traditionally been a month of extremes in Wordgrove. After the newsletter’s summer hiatus and the return from vacation’s diaspora, this month began the season of parties and events that took us all the way to year’s end … then the Wordgrove Prize writing contest. This was all great fun for Wordgrove Nutters, but October also stole away one of Wordgrove’s founding members and broke the club’s collective heart. It rained in Wordgrove for a month. It still does in WG’s memorial, Bedd Meadow.

And this is where it gets weird <flourish of trumpets> Welcome to WeirdGrave!

Got a spooky paz? WeirdGrave is a great place to showcase it. Do you have a favorite paz you like to bring out for special occasions? WeirdGrave is the showplace for it. There are plains and forests and hillsides aplenty @WeirdGrave, but save them for your best.

This is a month-long event for October and everyone is welcome to drop their ‘event’ anytime, but the good spaces go early. This is the club’s annual invitation to go from Nutters to Weird and have fun in the meantime. Go for it!

There will be a brightly ornate Puta Table near WeirdGrave’s Vladform for visitors to leave Scrolled links to their exhibits elsewhere.

~

As requested by Odin, something by ~Faun at Faeriecon: Luna

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y9Tv1lkmYTc

~

Prewritten for Thurs (08/20) @6pm PT/9 ET is: synopsis, poltergeist

~~

@Writers Platform

Prewritten: Physical trait to kill for

~MissMerry:

Eyes to Die For

5′ 10 and 104 pounds, long slim legs, long, wavy, dark auburn hair, and tilted dark eyes to die for.

Eat the peas or the carrots… or eat both and throw it all up THROW IT UP GET IT OUT! Damn calories. My hip bones are prominent and all my ribs are standing out.

Stomach growls loud enough to catch the attention of others in class. I am so hungry all I can think of is food.

4 nights a week I serve cocktails to state legislators and capital city ‘who’s who”. My stilletto heels and net stockings with the black velvet mini skirt is easy on the eyes… my tips are good.

The manager says one night “The senator likes your tiny waist. Maybe you should skip a meal or two.”

I quit.

I found a job in a barbeque restaurant serving real MEAT and FRIES, and salads with REAL dressing! I wore SNEAKERS to work instead of heels and got real. I went to class with a full tummy and could concentrate on the lesson, not starvation.

I gained some weight and was still beautiful. And I still have eyes to die for!

~

~Greymane:

Work Work Work

Igor sighed mournful as he punched his card into the time clock. He was still exhausted from the night before as he lumbered down the hall in a stupor. When he passed by the break room he could hear Frank was already in there cussing something or other as he usually was. He always seemed to be upset about something trivial.

He got in line at the dispatcher’s window behind The Covington Slasher. He was a pleasant enough guy, hey had met at the last company picnic and had had a few beers together. They had gotten along well enough despite the fact that Igor wasn’t a big fan of those who took so much pleasure in the work. To him it had always been just a job.

“Hey! How’s it goin’ Igor?” He asked

“Oh, can’t complain Bill, Can’t complain” He replied

Taking his schedule from dispatch and patting Igor on the hump, he left to start his daily route.

“Take it easy Igor, I’ll see you Friday night at Vlad’s for poker.”

“Sounds Good.” Igor nodded, Thinking it would be a great pleasure taking Bill’s money. He was the card shark of their group and hardly ever ended the night in the hole.

“Mornin’ Marge,” he said when he reached the window.

“Good Morning Igor.” She smiled back at him, “I’ve got a good one for you today. An order came in for Hazel eyes and size 6 feet. That puts Adele, mayor Moonstone’s wife on your list.

“Oh my,” he laughed, “she seems like she could be a screamer.”

“You have only two days to meet the deadline, it’s a rush job, been expedited straight out of the front office.”

He left the window grumbling. The mayor and his wife were friends of a friend and he had just last month attended their annual spring soiree. He was grateful that their clientelle demanded complete discretion, if the mayor had any suspicions he would not be attending any more fancy parties.

He went to the employees lounge for a quick brandy before checking out a nondescript panel wagon from the carriage house. On the way he stopped to take a longing look at the picture he had hung in his locker for inspiration.

Ahhh, Tahiti! Mmmm someday, someday soon, he thought to himself. Only 79 more assignments and he would have enough saved up to finally retire there comfortably as he had dreamed for centuries.

“Such a stressful job, but worth it,” he said out loud too no one there. It was easy for him though; he had a natural talent for procurement. There seemed to be a predisposition for such work in his family history.

He followed Adele for the better part of the afternoon and finally caught her alone towards the evening hours as the darkness began to fall.

He made quick work of it using his favorite knife and cleaver. Expertly removing her beautiful hazel eyes and her flawless size 6 feet he sealed them hermetically in sterile containers and packed them in ice. Covered in blood he made no attempt to disguise what he had just done in any way. He dropped off her remains with a paper that read …

“Renfield Procurement Agency”
“Purveyors of attributes to kill for for over 600 years!”
“Guaranteed Fresh”
“IGOR”
“Procurement Specialist IV”

This he knew would exempt him from any criminal prosecution from the Transylvanian authorities. He then packed up the wagon and headed for Old Doc Freakenstooge’s castle to deliver his order.

“Only 78 more to go!,” He mused to himself, Tahiti one less breath closer.

~

~BarTalk: Eyes to Die For

~~

Impromptu: merciful, morsel

~Greymane:

Corners

She painted her passions with barely aware
and lost herself under the veil
With a merciful morsel of what she could share
expressing delicious detail
Confessing confusion she challenged the dark
chaining her shadows with light
Hiding in corners where dreams disembark
somewhere too deep in the night

~

~whitefeather: haiku

savoring each morsel
a merciless temptation
melting in my mouth

~

~BarTalk: Duo Diablo

~ . ~