She kicked the bucket, I

danced on her grave; the soothing melody

of her laughter played within.

Japanese Wooden Bucket

Hear the coins clack, echoing

like pebbles in a hollow cave, meager

donations just like super tonight.

My friend once said that to dance on someone’s grave was a sign that they lived a full and happy life. A life you were sad to lose, but one you are happy to have been part of.

I don’t know how true it is or if it’s a generally accepted truth, however, there is usually a lot of dancing at funerals back home so ….

Written in response to TJ’s Household Haiku Challenge – today’s prompt is bucket.

Thank you TJ for hosting this challenge.

Image: copyright Tj Paris


Neither dusk or dawn nor

countdowns intiated at eves’ midnight can vanquish,

the pain of your absence.




Thawing under time’s swaying rhythm

the dates hasten to record passing seasons

but my heart stays frozen.


Written in response to TJ’s Household Haiku Challenge – todays prompt is Calendar.

Thank you TJ for hosting this challenge.

Image is from Pixabay free images.




Daily legends

Written in response to the daily prompt challenge – Morphing.

Language evolves. The meaning of a word can shift over time as we use it differently — think of “cool,” “heavy,” or even “literally.”

Today, give a word an evolutionary push: give a common word a new meaning, explain it to us, and use it in the title of your post.


Chosen word: Legends.

Legends: people living their daily lives; scaling life’s hurdles, fighting demons at night and rising at dawn to smile at a new day. Content in whom they are.

We often go searching for something exceptional, unique, different and without flaws to inspire us. I think this quest for perfection, for something without flaws has created individuals with multiple personality disorders, individuals with no personalities, narcissistic individuals e.t.c I also think that when people can’t manage or face up to these flaws they try to make them seem less disturbing, like a norm. Trust me been there and in some areas I am still there. But I am starting to think our flaws make us human, learning to discipline them is what turns us into legends.

“Legends blossomed whilst we lived

treading the unfolding path with determination and fairness.”



Tap … tap

Source: Google  free images

Secretly tap a strangers heart,

Listen for words unspoken; emotions buried beneath,

 From there flows their essence.

Source: Pixabay

Tap the heart with care,

Tap the keys with speed and accuracy,

Today’s discoveries might brighten tomorrow.

Written for TJ Paris haiku writing challenge. The word for this week was tap, hope you liked it.

Patient X

“The condition isn’t contagious neither is it life-threatening, well except in extreme complicated situations. However, it can reduce one’s quality of life following any fractures.”

“Can it be fixed right away?” asked Patient X

“It can be managed, but  not totally treated immediately; it’s very important that you  exercise regularly …”

Huffing in mock dismay “Exercise at my age, you joking.”

“That’s not the only option. We recommend a change in diet as well as dietary supplements to help boost your calcium levels.” Feigning a sympathetic smile, it was always the same everyone wanted a quick fix.

“I don’t want no fancy stupid diet and I don’t want to exercise. I don’t suppose you’ll skip the part on smoking and drinking?”

“Well there is that ….”

“Oh just get on with it, knew you lot weren’t useful. Wasting taxpayers money on silly things, you should be finding a quick fix, something that strengthens the bones straight-way.”

Fed up with her attitude, he couldn’t help himself “Like titanium?”


In response to the writing challenge flash fiction for aspiring writers hosted by Priceless Joy click on the link to visit the blog. The photograph was provided by Pixabay (interesting photo can’t wait to see all the stories it inspires) and the challenge is to write a 100 – 150 words (+/- 25 words) story inspired by it. Do click on the link for other stories.

Thank you for stopping by.

Green tank.

Empty crisp wraps, muddy soil, potholes and dog poop littered the entire street in a pattern that left no building unmarked by the dirt.

The site I could endure, but the stench …

Turning the corner the tank loomed ahead in the distance like a beacon, the sight of it made me smile, it brought back memories. Memories of

A father who held unto his own ideals like a pit-bull hanging unto your calf.

A mother who cowered at every upset, but never forgave a slight.

A house that echoed the raised voice and trembled more at the resounding silence.

But also memories of a man who spent his last savings building a reservoir so the neighbours didn’t run short of water. It was the first true act of kindness I saw my father do, but it was also the last I would witness for a long while.

Today, I’m going home; yes home to my mum and dad. I didn’t become the ‘Bull’ of wall street by accident, their genes lace through my bloodstream.

This song influenced my story.


In response to the writing challenge flash fiction for aspiring writers hosted by Priceless Joy click on the link to visit the blog. The photograph was provided by Sonya at only 100 words (interesting photo can’t wait to see all the stories it inspires) and the challenge is to write a 100 – 150 words (+/- 25 words) story inspired by it. Do click on the link for other stories.

Thank you for stopping by.

New memories

11:00 PM20151109_163447

I tossed, I turned,

But sleep eluded me.

What worried me, I knew naught.

I had to find rest, tomorrow was another workday.

I blinked, I twitched, I lie in my mother’s arm. She held me close, her warmth securing my world. We shared a bond that change will sorely test; a truth my infantile mind knew naught, a truth she embraced with querying thoughts.

12:00 AM

I tossed and turned again,

This time it lured me

And I followed willingly.

I found rest, tomorrow would be here.

I stretched, I hugged my pillow. I stood in front of my father: he spoke, I listened. I went to school: people spoke , I listened, I spoke. After a while the words became weights bearing down on us. Just in time the arms of faith carried us through, for though we all spoke our thoughts left us querying the wisdom of speech.

3:00 AM

I … no this time I didn’t toss neither did I turn.

I slumbered peacefully.

I found rest in the knowledge of hope.

In the beauty of forgiveness.

In the strength of love.

I loved myself enough to understand that the world would hopefully outlive me. I loved life enough to try and bury my  pain, confusion or fears so I can leave a finger print of happiness on the sands of time. I loved tomorrow enough to know that querying thoughts should not be left to the night, they should be the stairs for tomorrows happy memories.

6:00 AM

I am awake, I am an early bird and today belongs to me.Slide5

Written for the daily prompt ‘because-the-night’.


The Sisterhood of the World Bloggers Award


Sisterhood-ImageHappy Sunday folks, I am guessing not a lot of people will be happy it’s Sunday seeing as Monday will be making an appearance in less than 24 hours. Smile it’s still a New day. Ok! straight to business, today I am excited to receive the sisterhood of the world bloggers award. Excited because I know how amazing sisters can be and even more so because Millie Tom who nominated me has been an awesome fairy blog mother, she also led me to an awesome fairy blog sister Louise.  Thank you Millie for the nomination and as you would say enough faffing straight to business.Slide1

  1. Thank the giver and link their blog to your post.  (done)
  2. Answer the 10 questions given to you.
  3. Pass the award on to ‘N’ (as many as you want) other bloggers of your choice and let them know that they have been nominated.
  4. Give your nominees 10 of your own questions to answer.
  5. Include the logo of the award in a post or on your blog (first image above)


1. How would you describe what your blog is about?

My blog is simply a depiction of my thoughts, reflections and imagination on a variety of issues. Thus you could find stories on some days, quotes on another and a whole lot of other things in between.

2. Do you see your blog changing (as in expanding or developing in any way) at some stage in the future?

Well, I hope so.

3. Do you write your blog posts straight onto the WordPress page or onto a word document first? 

I do a bit of both: for spontaneous ideas I write straight into wordpress and for things that take time to formulate I write in Microsoft word.

4.  When you write do you need to be on your own or are you happy to write with others around you?

Emmm …. my daughter is a very present ‘help’ where ever I am so I have learnt and I am still learning to write, talk and entertain at once.

5. Which is your favourite species of tree, and why do you like it?

Don’t really have one.

6.  If you were to have a day out somewhere easily reachable from your home, where would it be?

The park … I love playing with my daughter, watching her cautiously explore or try to kick the ball is fun.

7.  Which ‘celebration’ (annual or otherwise) in the country where you live do you enjoy the most?


8.  Which way would you choose to travel, given the choice: car or train?

Train. I think it offers a lot more to observe: fellow passengers, the scenery and I don’t have to worry about sleeping off whilst the driver stays awake bored. That’s if I am not the one driving.

9. Which subject did you enjoy the most at school?


10. What do you think is the best thing about being a woman today?

The ability to make my own choices and own my decisions: not always fun, but at least this way I discover myself as well.

Now for my questions: Sorry they will dwell more on the topic of sisterhood.

  • Define sisterhood.
  • What are your thoughts on giving false compliments? (Compliments that are not really true but are still given)
  • Are women more competitive amongst themselves than men?
  • Explain the thoughts behind the above answer
  • When a guy cheats, is the other culprit (whoever he slept with) devoid of blame?
  • Do you prefer working with a woman or man, why?
  • Please rephrase the sentence “Women need men …” 
  • Is your blog content tailored for a particular gender?
  • Complete the sentence, if women ruled the world …..
  • What does beauty mean to you?

My nominees are:

Jacqueline at acookingpotandtwistedtales

maynotbesoannonymous at riddlesandpens

Laurien at solothefirst

Jessica at notsotypicalblog

Mandibelle at mandibelle16

Madamsabi at madamsabi

Sam and Kelly at coffeeandtwigs

Chloe blades at whatasuperworld




Savvy natives

Stepping into the tent, she shivered. Lit by a single flame burning in a clay pot the tent was chilling. The masquerade mask in the corner, raffia mat covered in blood lying beneath the skull of an ape and the short broom allegedly used to drive demons away worsened her fears.

In a voice like thunder “What can Osimiri do for you today?”

Standing-still , Mrs Ikem swallowed her voice.

“Speak woman! Osimiri despises the faint hearted.”

“I want healing … healing for my son, he is at the brink of death.” she squeaked.

“Osmiri knows this, he has his demands.”

“I will do anything”

“Very well, Osmiri requires the following: one white peacock feather, the toe nail of a black peacock, the croak of a frog and the testicles of a day old white lamb.”

“Ahhh! Where do I get them from?”

“Osmiris’ messenger is willing to help you for a price.”

“How much?

“Thirty thousand naira.”

“Where do I put the money?”

Emerging from the shadows, a dark tall mass draped in red towered over Mrs Ikem “hand it to me.”

Relieved to finally deal with an individual, she proceeded to retrieve the cash from her bag, only halting when she caught a glimpse of an iPad in his hands.

Ehhh! When did native gods start hiring technology savvy messengers?

Continue reading “Savvy natives”

Grave lessons.

When Harley called me to pick her up from the party, I panicked.

“What happened honey?” I asked, searching for signs of dodgy activity.


Remembering our pact to let her set the pace on such discussions, I tried to stay calm, testing my nerves sorely.

“It didn’t feel right, every time they passed the party mix … don’t freak out mum I didn’t try it.”

Sigh of relief.

“I kept remembering the words on the gravestone …”


“Dad took us to the navy cemetery ….”

“Hmmm …”

Die for something worth living for … the grave was for a twenty-one year old officer”.

            © J Hardy Carroll

Written in honour of soldiers who died for peace … something worth living for.

In response to Friday fictioneers writing challenge hosted by Rochelle.  The picture was provided by J Hardy Carroll and the task is to write a 100 words story inspired by it. Thanks Rochelle for hosting it, thank you for stopping by… do click on the link to read other stories.

Also written for NaBloPoMo day eleven.