Happy Monday to you all! I hope you had a good weekend. The thing that struck me when I went out over the weekend, was the glorious colours of the leaves – the rusts, mustards, golds, reds etc. So my new challenge is for you to write a poem or story on the theme of autumn. Yes, I know I’ve recently set this challenge, but this time you also need to add in the following words somewhere in your piece:
- Red
- Goldfish
- Mustard
Here are the results of last week’s challenge. You were required to write a poem/story about a character called Bob.
Simon Farnell wrote a brilliant Halloween story, with a few extra prompts from his children. Do visit his site to read it:
https://sfarnell.wordpress.com/2015/10/31/halloween-the-ghost-called-bob/
After some special requests, Neel Anil Panicker has followed up last week’s beautifully written story:
And here’s the wonderful Rajiv Chopra with more of his Mary Jane Series:
“Who’s Bob?” asked Harley with some suspicion in her voice. She did not like the idea of Mary Jane taking a shine to a man – or woman, for that matter – and Bob’s name had come up a couple of times during Mary Jane’s mumblings in the night.
“Bob?” asked Mary Jane with a from. She paused. “Oh, Bob!” she said, her face suddenly clearing. “Bob was my priest and confessor as a child. I think I dreamt of him last night.”
“And, of what did you dream, my dear?” asked Harley, snuggling up to her.
“Oh, I dreamt I was in confession again,” sighed Mary Jane. “I dreamed that he asked me many questions.”
“What kind of questions?” asked Harley, running a finger slowly down between Mary Jane’s breasts. Mary Jane smiled, and arched her body at the touch, and then continued.
“Oh, I dreamed that he asked me many questions, which is strange. I don’t remember him asking me many questions when I was a child. But, he had lots of questions for me now.”
“He asked me if I believed what I was doing was good. He said that when I was with Spidey, I was a good, law-abiding citizen. That now, I seemed to have abandoned everything, and gone off on a reckless path. Where would this path lead me? Did I choose to go on this path, or was I seduced into travelling along these new roads? Was I truly happy, in my heart of hearts, and was I going to abandon my principles altogether?”
She paused, as Harley’s tongue gently rolled around her nipples. She sighed and stroked Harley’s head, enjoying the sensations that were rippling up and down her skin and nerves. Her fingers caressed Harley’s back, and she closed her eyes, allowing herself to be consumed by the sensation.
“And, then what?” asked Harley, looking up, almost slyly.
“Yes, he continued along this way, and then asked if I thought I was proud of myself now.” Harley’s head moved down, but Mary Jane’s hand arrested the downward movement, and looking into her eyes, she said, “I told Bob that I don’t care if I am damned to Hell or whatever he had in store for me. I told him that my path may be reckless, but it is my path. I told him that I love you deeply, and it is with you that I will travel down the roads and highways of life. This is what we have chosen together. This is what I told him, and then he asked me if I missed my life with Spidey.
“I laughed out in my dream, and told him that the old life was dead. The new Mary Jane, the true Mary Jane had been born. He then asked me one last question – whether I was convinced that this Mary Jane was truly authentic. To which, I screamed at him, and told him to get out of my subconscious.”
She stopped speaking, and kissed Harley Quinn with a hunger that was more intense than it ever had been.
This, my friends, is where we leave them for now. You, gentle and foolish reader, can use your imagination to create a picture of what you think they did next. I, Loki, shall not indulge your salacious fantasies.
***
Esther Chilton 
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