Friday, November 16, 2018

Granny Candy Part 3

Today’s post is a writing challenge. This is how it works: participating bloggers picked 4 – 6 words or short phrases for someone else to craft into a post. All words must be used at least once and all the posts will be unique as each writer has received their own set of words. That’s the challenge, here’s a fun twist; no one who’s participating knows who got their words and in what direction the writer will take them. Until now.
My words were: scenario, payoff, lynx, attitude, crucify. They were submitted by:

I really didn't expect to be writing a part 3. I know it's hard for bloggers who don't participate in these challenges regularly to keep up with a multipart story like this, so I was going to leave it with part 2, but these characters have been some of my favorites from any writing I've ever done (the demon story characters too), so when I got these words for the challenge, things just clicked, and here we are. Sorry not sorry.

You can find part 1 here: Granny Candy Part 1 and Part 2 here: Granny Candy Part 2


With that attitude of yours, you'll be lucky if my, our, employer does not crucify you. She will not call you Lizzy, for gods' sake, or be bribed with delectable sweets. You must be on your best behavior, answer all questions to the best of your ability, and thank her graciously for her consideration or she may be of a mind to stick you with Uncle Wayne.

"With... with him? That would be torture. I would rather die."

Lizzy. LIZZY. Have we not established you are already dead? Why else are we here?

"Oh. Well, yeah. Right. I'm dead. But can't I, like, blink out of existence? Or blink HIM out of existence?"

No, that is not how any of this works. His exasperation sent a foreboding dread over her skin like it lived and breathed. Can you not answer a few questions for a position you want without being so obstinate and cumbersome? Is it so hard?

"Honestly? Yes. But I'll give it my best shot."

Fine. Fine! Also, I must warn you...if she turns into a lynx, do not scream or run. Think of it as a test you MUST pass or the results will be less than favorable for your continued pain-free existence in this realm. And do NOT under any circumstances call her a pretty kitty and try to pet her.

"I was betting that's how I'd die, you know. Trying to pet a wild animal."

Yes, I lost money on that bet myself.


We do not have time for these questions. Follow me.

She did. Mostly out of curiosity. But also because she really didn't want to do anything but annoy Grimmy for all of eternity.

They exited the hotel offices, popped into the elevator, and Grimmy hit the button for the penthouse. The elevator itself was padded with a deep maroon crushed velvet that smelled...well...not quite bad but also a little like death. A little rancid. It wasn't pungent or overwhelming, but it was definitely there.

"Question. If this is a figment of my imagination, the hotel depot, why does it still look like a hotel and not its true form?"

It has no true form.

"Everything does. Doesn't it? It has to."

No, everything does not. I do not. This depot does not. The Boss does not. Also, you have not officially been accepted. This is not exactly protocol, child, so I am unsure if it will change form when you are and are no longer in need of an eternity or if we are now stuck in this licorice vomit garbage dump.

"Licorice vomit?! I would think you would love all this dark shit."

No. No, I do not love all this groaned. I do not care for the dark shit.

"Grimmy! Did you really just say 'shit?!'"

Hush, child. We are here.

The doors opened into an open floor with pink toned sunset light steaming in through giant windows that lined the opposite wall. Ethereal was the word that immediately came to mind as Lizzy scanned the room. There were filled, mahogany bookshelves lining the remaining windowless walls. The room smelled like old books, sandalwood, and a hint of blood orange. The carpet was cream and somehow glittering with strands of gold. Chaise lounges and deep velvet sofas in hues of red and purple made the room seem cozy while the large gold desk in front of the windows commanded respect.

As they approached, the large leather chair behind it turned to face them, and Lizzy finally caught a glimpse of the Boss.

She had richly umber skin and a crown of natural curls styled in an Afro blow out. Her eyes gleamed with the force of her smile, and every bit of her makeup, fierce and bold, was flawless--bronze eyeshadow, full brows, red lips, highlight that could blind if she stared straight on long enough, and eyeliner wings that could cut.  When her chair stopped it's slow spin to face them, she stood in her stark white, nearly sheer, gown. Everything about her made Lizzy's heart flutter...but when the Boss threw her head back and let loose a throaty, full body laugh, Lizzy's eyes inexplicably filled with tears, and she felt absolutely petrified.

It was then, still smiling, that the Boss did her lynx transformation.

Not in all of eternity did Lizzy think this scenario would actually play out in reality. She had been sure Grimmy was trying to put her on edge and make her look like ridiculous in front of the Boss like some weird, old being hazing ritual. But nope. She was not that lucky apparently.

The lynx, Keeper of Secrets that she was, stalked towards Lizzy, ears back and muscles flexing. She paced back and forth in front of her feet, growling.

Kneel, child. Kneel or it gets worse.

Lizzy did as he said, no lip. The Boss immediately stood face to face with her growling again and hissing to bare her fangs. Lizzy trembled, but she didn't move. No running, no fear reaction. She closed her eyes and stayed perfectly still, hoping for the best. Hoping, at least, not to get eaten or swiped into eternity or whatever might happen.

It felt like hours that Lizzy stayed kneeling in darkness before she heard that throaty, life-taking laugh again. She opened her eyes to find The Boss once again in human-esque form in front of her, still face to face. She stared deeply into those richly brown, gold-flecked eyes that seemed so full of answers and waited.

"So you want work, is that it?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Ma'am, eh? You don't seem half the little twerp Charon made you out to be when he asked for this interview. Perhaps he was being a bit melodramatic?"

"He has a tendency to do that.'am."

"You do want the job, though? And it was your idea?"

"Yes, ma'am. It was all me. Grimmy--uh--Charon seems like he will make a great supervisor."

The Boss threw her head back in laughter again. "Grimmy? Oh, this is rich. Give me your hand, child."

Lizzy gulped and looked at Grimmy, but he gave no indication what she should do. She looked at the Boss again whose eyes made demands her voice wasn't needed for and stuck out her hand.

When their skin connected, Lizzy felt its warmth and softness but nothing more. She had wondered if this was some kind of power-giving ceremony in the seconds before she made contact bracing herself for the ferocity of her touch. But it felt like any other hand.

For the Boss, though, it didn't seem like such an easy task. Her eyes rolled back until those all-knowing irises vanished, and her breathing was labored. She sucked in one long, ragged breath and nearly collapsed when it escaped her. Grimmy was at their side in an instant helping the Boss up and to her chair where she sat, back straight as an arrow waiting, Lizzy assumed, for her breath to return to something close to normal.

"I see you are a bit of a twerp, Elizabetha Madeline Forrester. But it does appear it's all in good fun. Your Grimmy here doesn't seem to mind even half as much as he made out. I have to admit, his reluctance to bring you on motivated my agreement to this request more than anything else as I do love to see him annoyed. I feel a bit played now." She laughed more playfully this time. It was light, genuine, and full of warmth more than the power Lizzy had felt from her before.

Lizzy felt a little bolder. "Is there some sort of salary involved?"

The Boss leaned forward no longer smiling and clasped her hands together on the desk primly but not without force. "The only payoff here is my letting you exist. Now if you want to remain on my good side, dearheart, get the fuck out of my office."

Grimmy ran. Lizzy could hardly believe it, but she was close on his heels. Neither of them spoke until the elevator doors closed them into relative safety.

You could not resist opening your big mouth, I see.

"Grimmy, babe, we have all eternity in front of us. Let's not dwell on the past."

They rode the rest of the elevator ride with Grimmy's annoyance surrounding them like a cocoon while Lizzy was doubled over in laughter.


here are the rest of this week's participants!

Baking In A Tornado

On the Border

The Bergham Chronicles

The Blogging 911

Cognitive Script

Part Time Working Hockey Mom

Sparkly Poetic Weirdo

Friday, November 9, 2018


Welcome to a Secret Subject Swap. This week 9 brave bloggers picked a secret subject for someone else and were assigned a secret subject to interpret in their own style. Today we are all simultaneously divulging our topics and submitting our posts.

Your “Secret Subject” is: This year, I'm grateful for _______.

It was submitted by:      


I am grateful things aren’t worse.

That’s about all I can say for this year. I’ve lost friends, watched the nation turn more and more towards hate, dealt with the return of a stalker, weathered a hurricane that left the area devastated, and now have a dog with diabetes that I can never leave alone for more than a few hours until she gets her next injection. I’ve been hurt, friends are dealing with scary health issues, and my cfs has been a constant and ever present nightmare. But. It could be worse, I guess? I think that’s really one of the major thoughts that helps me get through the day some days. It could be worse. I could have worse health scares. I could be bedridden. It could be another year for an execution instead of just an anniversary of one. I could have lost my dog instead of having to give her injections twice a day. I could have lost my closest friend not just a couple good friends. It could definitely be worse.

I’m thankful I haven’t had to see “30 Days of Thanks” on my Facebook timeline this year.

I know a lot of people do it. I get why they might want to in a way, and I do realize most of the time the intent is not related to ego. But holy shit it can be isolating. Impact matters. For anyone struggling with their health really badly like many people I know are, seeing everyone else be thankful for their health on their feed throughout the month is just a reminder we don’t have that. Seeing someone be thankful they’re pregnant can be a reminder for the person struggling to get pregnant that they don’t have that. It’s not that it’s just one person saying this randomly. When this has been a trending activity to do on social media, it’s a barrage of different people posting it throughout the month. I know that people are still happy for others and would never wish sickness or infertility or whatever on any of their friends, but those reminders of what we don’t have can be difficult, and I don’t think it’s too much of an ask to be mindful of what others’ may be going through before sharing what you’re grateful to have every single day for 30 days or how much people who are struggling are seeing how alone they are in their struggle.

I’m grateful the House was flipped blue to try and keep a check on things in the government. I’m thankful Muslim women, gay women, gay men, democratic socialists, and Indigenous women all made history winning their elections. I’m grateful Georgia seems to be moving more blue as demographics change and younger people get more involved in voting. I’m absolutely horrified about this new Trump-esque governor (as of typing this Kemp still has a lead anyway while Abrams files suits and waits on final counts). As a queer woman with friends of color, trans friends, veterans I love, people I love with pre-existing conditions, and other queer friends, it’s terrifying to have someone in control who would deny us coverage, existence, access to benefits, and more. I didn’t expect different really. It’s still Georgia after all, but it’s still unsettling to say the least that in this time we will still elect people like Kemp or DeSantis in Florida who ran corrupt campaigns and made thinly veiled racist statements. It’s give and take, this election, but I’m grateful I was able to make my voice heard even if it’s not fully or really at all represented in my home state.

I’m grateful I for all the kiddos at my house—the human one and all the furry ones. Not furry like costumed but furry like actual cats and dogs. I feel too weird not making that distinction. I don’t know where I would be without them to both keep me too busy to think about things and to keep me feeling loved. A year ago, I was contacted by a facebook friend about a friend of hers who needed help with 2 cats in the Atlanta area. The other woman’s former partner had passed suddenly, and these cats needed a foster home. She planned on moving one to Canada with her and helping me find a home for the other. It literally took days for Secret to dig her claws into my heart and make her place here. I call her Queenie now because she runs this place and owns me. I can’t really explain it. I have more than my fair share of cats between rescues and foster fails and fostering period, and I have bonds with a lot of them, but nothing compares to this relationship I have with my Queenie. We’re inseparable, and I am grateful every day I made the choice to bring them here even when I didn’t have the space. I’m grateful I took a chance on contacting the people who had Rost, my dane, even though I didn’t think I was ready for him after my old man Cap passing away a few months before. He’s been amazing in keeping me anchored to this Earth. I don’t know how I would have made it through this year without him. And of course, I’m always grateful for the weird relationship I have with the human kiddo. He keeps me laughing, and the amount of leg hair he has now is awe-inspiring. Haha.

I’m also thankful I have friends who will come to me with questions about social issues, who don’t mistake my passion for anger, and my honesty for hatefulness. I’m thankful I have friends willing to learn, to do the work to be good allies, that will keep me in check when I fail, and work with me to challenge others to be better. I’m thankful I can be a part of groups that help others with everything from depression pizzas to meme threads when we’re down but also to help keep that growth going no matter how dark the future might seem at times. I’m thankful I have made spaces where those of us who aren’t the majority feel safe to express how we see the world and who aren’t afraid to be unapologetically us. I’m thankful people see me as someone who will stand up for them and fight with them, and that being, well, disabled, hasn’t changed how they see me. I might not be on the front lines of the fight, but I’m here for them, and they know it. I’m thankful I have friends who are there for me too, that fight for me, that love me no matter what. Those are the relationships that keep you going.

I’m grateful I found kratom. That’s been my savior this year to help battle the pain I experience with cfs. There were some dark times full of misery and anger and thoughts of ending it all to escape the pain for awhile there. I tried CBD oil which did help with anxiety but did nothing much for the pain, and I was starting to feel I was out of options when I stumbled upon this plant. I cried the first day I took it standing in the shower wowed at how it feels to not have a level 8 pain all day long trying to make it through the day. I still have pain even on it, but holy shit is the world easier to take when it’s a 3 or 4 and not so intense I cannot function.

And I’m immensely grateful even after everything, I still have a sense of humor. Laughing really is the best medicine.


Here are links to all the sites now featuring Secret Subject Swap posts. Sit back, grab a cup, and check them all out. See you there:

Baking In A Tornado

The Lieber Family Blog

The Bergham Chronicles

The Blogging 911

Cognitive Script

Never Ever Give Up Hope

Part Time Working Hockey Mom

Sparkly Poetic Weirdo