Prompt: It's hard to get your money back, especially if you let others borrow it.
Here's my attempt at this prompt. Only, don't expect dialogue tags to take up residence here. You might try it as an exercise, too. The voices of the characters are what count.

​Getting Your Money Back
 
Usually, I wouldn’t be caught dead this early in the morning. If it weren’t that the rent is due for my new apartment, I wouldn’t be sliding this plastic into the ATM. Hmm, that’s funny. Let me try this again. Maybe the machine is waking up, too, or is frozen. No cash? Just yesterday I took out $40 for the freaking gas. I had $5,000 in the bank! Ugh! Of course, the bank is closed at the moment. There is only one person I know who would be responsible for this. I’ll have to confront her before she leaves for work. 
 
“Open up, you skunk!” 
I keep knocking on the door, but no one answers. I know she’s home because the kitchen light is on. You could see it from the living room window, not to mention her car is parked upfront. My mother warned me against opening a joint account with her. 
“Come on!” 
“Alright, already.” The door flies open. “Oscar? What are you doing here... so early?”
“I’m coming from the bank. So, where’s my money?”
“Your money?"
'Don't you lie to me."
"You must be crazy. What would I do with your money?”
“Where is it?”
“Stop! What are you doing to my things? If you don’t go, I’m going to have to call the police!”
“Tell me why you did it?”
“You’re hurting me…”
“Why?”
“Enough, Oscar.”
I turned in the direction of the voice. “Mother?”
“That’s right. Now, let your hands fall off Toni’s arms.”
“But she took my money.”
“I said: ENOUGH!”
I released the grip on her shoulders. A red mark remained. 
“You do not need money, son. I received the call last night. I knew you would come here."
"What call?"
"Now, sit on the sofa with me. I will drive you home.” 
"Drive me?"
Then, she shot me.

Watch for it on May 20, 2023!

​This perspective will help the image form in our poetry clearly and specifically. The use of the five senses: taste, smell, touch, sound, and sight, can provide enough details so the reader can picture what’s happening. For example, he said to think of a poem as a photograph and not as a snapshot. You can describe a photograph, whereas the latter doesn't provide the whole picture.
The next time you sit down to write that inspiring thought, make sure to use as many senses as possible to form the picture you want others to see. Oh, and it’s okay to let your imagination guide you.

Take a look at the published poem, “Matches” 

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With the New Year came a few publications in January. Here are the links to them in case you missed them!

hungry fire – young woman &  you watch me from your window, Alkhemia-Poetica, January 6, 2023

 As It Was & Disappearing, The Kleksograph, Issue 10, January 2023 and is saved as PDF 10

I've been busy with editing my Fantasy novel this week that I find myself excited about the progress. That old saying: Never give up... well, just don't. Persevere in your goal and you will see results.

I never thought I'd get to where I am. In between the checking and re-checking, I have written another novel. This time a fantasy novel.

I noticed I'm better at what I'm doing the more I do it. There's something about keeping to the writing. So, I'm going off to my editing and hope you find yourself writing, too.

Good Luck! 
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​Keeping secrets is not all fun and games, as they say, but it does bring up interesting ideas for stories. Who knew that nice young man at the shop killed three people? Who knew that teenage girl lied about her teachers to get better grades? Who knew that grandma stole jewelry using her electric wheelchair as a getaway vehicle? And who knew keeping secrets could be so stressful?
The following short story deals with a secret. Enjoy! 
 
                                                              “I Know I’m Supposed to Keep This a Secret, But…”
 
I’ve waited for this trip to Hawaii for a long time. Too bad my cousin was not available to go along with me. The beaches were supposed to be better than ours, so they say. The crystal clear waters allowed people to swim along with many sea animals. The wonders of nature were expecting one happy tourist.
I relaxed my head on the travel pillow I blew up while I waited to board the plane. My seatbelt was fastened, and the plane lifted off the runway into a crowded, clouded sky. This part made my insides tumble. Lift-off always did. At least the destination was free of complications, so the pilot states.
As the plane steadied itself, and the flight attendants did their thing, I took a deep breath for a nice long nap. That was until my neighbor tapped me on the shoulder.
“Excuse me.” The girl with peppermint glasses turned to me. 
She had been watching the stewardess the whole time we got on this plane. This better not hinder the quiet.
“Yes?” I sighed.
She leaned closer, and whispered in my ear, “I know I’m supposed to keep this a secret, but I absolutely must tell someone.”
Oh, God. She’d better not say I reminded her of someone.
“This plane is not heading for Hawaii.”
“What!?!” I sprang from my seat, but the seatbelt restrained me. 
“Sh, please, I don’t want to cause a scene.” She waved her hand.
“I’m sorry. A minute there I thought you said this plane was not going to Hawaii.”
“That’s right.” She licked her lips.
The sentence she dispersed from her lips hadn’t sunk in my brain. Her tight round face looked satisfied, as if her nuance halted some indigestion. However, she neglected to give a reason for the change. Why should I bother? She seemed a little tipsy. Yet, what if she’s right? Did I accidentally board the wrong plane?
“Well?” I asked.
“Well, what?”
“Where is this plane heading?”
“I’m not supposed to say.” Her eyes shifted. “I could die.”
Heaven forbid this girl to die!
“What are you trying to pull? You obviously need medical attention-” 
A voice blasted through the speakers: “Passengers of flight 007. Welcome aboard! Please buckle yourselves up and allow us to transport you to dimension Westcorph. It was a lovely Earth, but it has outlived its usefulness. No need to become hostile. Just fasten those seatbelts and prepare for our stop in minus 30 seconds.” 30, 29, 28…
I looked back at the frantic passengers. The flight attendants put on gas masks! They held laser weapons in the shape of torpedoes. After an explosion that shook the plane and left vibrations in my teeth, the girl tapped me again.
“I told you so,” she scoffed.