Tipsy Scribbles: Prayer Updated

Prayer

I forgot Tipsy Scribbles last week. I then forgot to apologize for forgetting Tipsy Scribbles so I then said “whatever, I’ll do one next week.” It’s next week so here it is! This is my latest chalk painting I did for me, this isn’t a commission. It was originally practice for drawing people, which is not my strong suit. But I know my weaknesses and I am willing to work on improving them. That’s a step in the right direction.

On another note, I would like to say I have a new found respect for artist who are able to recreate realistic skin tones. Skin is not just peach or white or tan. It’s every color.

Prayer chalk pastel 7x9inches - Tipsy Scribbles - A picture says a thousand words when wine loosens the tongue.
Prayer

“Prayer is more than meditation. In meditation the source of strength is one’s self. When one prays he goes to a source of strength greater than his own.” — Chiang Kai-shek

More from Holloway’s Hideaway!

Red Herring – A Flash Fiction

Keeper of the Guardians – A Flash Fiction

Writing Prompts: Mother’s Day

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Mother’s Day Writing Prompts: May 2017

Mother’s Day Writing Prompts

We would like to wish a very happy Mother’s Day to our mothers, Deana and Lisa; our sisters, Krystal and Megan; and to every mother reading this. We love you more than words can properly express.

As per usual, these aren’t necessarily your mushy story starters. That just isn’t really our style. These are the prompts to get your story started, so make it as good or mushy as you want. And don’t forget to share it with us! We enjoy reading stories others create from our writing prompts. Your story may even be featured on the site, just like Askien’s Keeper of the Guardians.

I’m a little nervous to say that this will be the last post to reference the incomplete first draft for the Brix and Gregor novel. I started the final chapter this morning. It will certainly need extensive work, but the story, at least, is nearly all on paper. Once it is complete, I’m going to let it sit for a couple of weeks before starting the second draft. During that time, I will begin to work on Detective Peirson’s next case!

Mother's Day Writing Prompts-May2017-Nothing could diminish a mother's love, even death.
Nothing could diminish a mother’s love, even death.
Mother's Day Writing Prompts-May2017-Although it was just a word, she had poisoned every letter with her treachery. She was no mother.
Although it was just a word, she had poisoned every letter with her treachery. She was no mother.
Mother's Day Writing Prompts-May2017-After agonizing years of waiting, her lost child had found their way home.
After agonizing years of waiting, her lost child had found their way home.

 

More From Holloway’s Hideaway!

Tipsy Scribbles

Forgiveness – A Flash Fiction

Mother’s Day Comic

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Saving Time: Part 8

Start from the beginning!

Read Saving Time Part 7!

 

Saving Time - A Flash Fiction - READ FREE

Saving Time: Part 8

 

“Oh good, you came back!” Blue Tie sighed dramatically as I walked into the building. “Come with me, Bobby.”

“I’m not even clocked in yet,” I said over the rim of my coffee cup, but he continued to nudge me through the building.

Blue Tie led me to Boss Lady’s office and gestured for me to enter. He slammed the door behind me and trotted away.

The office was more like a broom closet: small, cramped, and dusty. Boss Lady stood behind her small desk and gestured to a dirty upturned bucket, “Please, sit.” Her voice was calm and she seemed bored. Her frantic movements and unkempt appearance gave off the impression of a caged animal eager to escape. “How do you like it here so far, Barbara?”

“Its a little…,” I searched my vocabulary for a word other than weird or odd, so I settled for, “Different?”

“How so?”

“Well, em, a guy tried to rob the bank and Mr. Acetone just paid him. From his own pocket.” I looked up at Boss Lady, expecting her to be shocked, however she remained silent and thumped a dead fly off her desk. I continued, “Then there was that whole thing with Sharron and her kid–”

Boss Lady waved her hands in a violent blur, “She is none of your concern. Her service is no longer required here.”

“She’s fired?” I couldn’t believe a company would be so heartless regarding their employees, especially a mother.

“She refused relocation. But never mind that. We would like for you to assist in the installation of a new ATM machine in the bank lobby.”

“The M stands for machine,” I said.

“What?”

“Never mind,” I sighed. “Computers and I don’t really get along. Plus, I have so much paperwork to sort and Darlene just sits there–”

“Darlene is doing her job,” Boss Lady interrupted me again.

The door to her office flew open and I looked up to see Mr. Acetone’s features soften as he smiled down at me. “The tech is here. Let’s get started.”

I followed Mr. Acetone to the lobby where a man was struggling to straighten a bulky machine with a large screen and dozens of buttons. The machine seemed to have once been white but now was a faint yellow with black grime embedded in all its crevices.

“I got her running,” he said to Mr. Acetone, and there was something oddly familiar about the man.

I immediately imagined what the man would look like with a ski mask obscuring his face and it hit me: He was the robber from last week! I squinted my eyes at the man, judging him, hoping he would notice I recognized him. I stepped up to the machine, “So where did you steal this from?”

The robber/tech man made a mock gasp and caressed the hideous machine. “I will have you know this is a genuine Enelrad brand ATM.”

Mr. Acetone made a loud throat clearing grunt and the robber/tech stepped back not saying another word. “Thank you for all your hard work,” and shooed him away. “Now, Bobby, I need you to figure out how to work this thing before a customer comes in.”

“Does Darlene need to learn this too?”

“Don’t you worry about her,” Mr. Acetone looked me in the eyes with an icy stare and kicked the machine. The screen blipped on and turned a soft blue. In the middle of he screen was a white, lower case “f” symbol.

I looked back at Darlene’s desk. It was surprisingly clean. The clutter of food containers and candy wrappers were all gone. Even her chair was missing. I could still smell the faintest hint of cigarette smoke. I turned back to the ATM and saw a thin puff of white smoke rising from out of the credit card slot.

 

More from Holloway’s Hideaway!

Mystery Writing Prompts

The Ceasefire – A Flash Fiction

Tipsy Scribbles

Premade D&D Character: Human Fighter

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Mystery Writing Prompts: May 2017

Mystery Writing Prompts

Happy Birthday, Mom!

This week’s writing prompts are from a favorite genre of my mom’s: Mystery. You will likely notice some Lovecraftian themes in these since I am reading the Gods of HP Lovecraft. I’m only on the third short story, but it is well done if any of you are interested in the works of Lovecraft. Anyhoo, the Brix and Gregor draft is coming right along. I’ll get it finished one of these days.

I hope you all enjoyed the guest writer’s Keeper of the Guardians this week. If anyone would like to be featured in a future post, let us know!

Mystery Writing Prompts-May2017-A single named breathed from the lips of every person.
A single named breathed from the lips of every person.
Mystery Writing Prompts-May2017-The door at the end of the hallway must never be opened.
“The door at the end of the hallway must never be opened.”
Mystery Writing Prompts-May2017-The frantic scribbles upon the scattered papers told the investigator a terrifying story.
The frantic scribbles upon the scattered papers told the investigator a terrifying story.
Mystery Writing Prompts-May2017-The shadow crept closer to the bedside lamp.
The shadow crept closer to the bedside lamp.

 

More From Holloway’s Hideaway!

Tipsy Scribbles

Red Herring – A Flash Fiction Series

The Surprise Party: A D&D Narrative

How To Comic: Make a Doctor Appointment

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Keeper of the Guardians

Keeper of the Guardians - A Flash Fiction by Askien - Read for FREE!

Keeper of the Guardians

Written by Guest Writer:

Askien

 

Long ago, deep within a lush forest teeming with life, there was a darkness. A murder. A man had slain a wolf and captured her cubs for his own selfish and greedy means. But where there is death, there is life. The wolf and her cubs were a sacrifice to save one. Hidden beneath the twisting bramble of a nearby bush lay a silent pup frozen with fear. Curled tightly against the damp chill of the forest floor, the abandoned cub waited for his chance at survival.

The following evening in the last light of sundown, another lone wolf made his way through the forest like a looming shadow. He embraced his solitude and refused to depend on any pack. He out-weighed and out-witted any wolf who had the ill fortune of crossing his path, until now.

A weak whimper sounded from below the wolf’s enormous paws. The cub shivered against the chill night air. Catching the foul scent of man, the wolf knew this pup would be left to die. The wolf cradled the trembling cub in his maw and returned to the safety of his warm den.

As the seasons passed, the cub grew into a strong and fierce wolf. The two became an inseparable pair, a pack of their own. Together they roamed the wilds without fear of man or beast. But with life, comes death.

Legends say the two wolves perished together, leaving behind their physical forms to fade into the forest. Their spirits entered the realm of the supernatural as great beasts with obsidian fur and eyes of burning stars. Their afterlife of guardianship offers guidance and protection to those who are abandoned.

In the span of two centuries, the guardians had not felt abandonment quite like this. A deepening loneliness drove their spirits across the universe to find one so empty and heartbroken; they vowed to never leave her side. This young girl who once felt so alone is now the keeper of the guardians.

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Tipsy Scribbles: Bagheera

Bagheera

 

This week, my artistic focus was on a cat named Bagheera. No, not the black panther from Rudyard Kipling’s book  the Jungle Book. And no, not our own black, long-haired cat also named Bagheera. This work was for a white cat, loved by her fur moms, Chassidy and Amy. Sadly, Bagheera and all her nine lives couldn’t win the battle against cancer. Her purr has faded, but her spirit remains in the hearts and memories of those who loved her.

Pets are family, and their passing leaves a hole in our hearts forever. Let us remember all those who have suffered through the loss of a loved one, animal or human, to cancer.

Bagheera Chalk Pastel 8x10in - Tipsy Scribbles - A picture says a thousand words when wine loosens the tongue.
Bagheera

 

This past week we also lost my grandmother, Edna, my father’s mother. She was a beautiful woman. She babysat my sister and me when we were young, but we lost touch as the years passed. She loved Barbie dolls and made sure we loved them as well. We would drink Diet Rite and eat angel food cake, then play with her hair until she couldn’t keep her eyes open. She will remain in that memory within my heart forever.

“Unable are the loved to die, for love is immortality.” – Emily Dickinson

More from Holloway’s Hideaway!

Missing Your Best Friend – A Comic

Forgiveness – A Flash Fiction

Tipsy Scribbles: Fluffy Clouds

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