Daily Feast

Day 201 of 365:

{Writing Prompt: Feast}

My favourite time of the day is dinner time.  A time to gather, feed and nourish.  To discuss, rehash and debate the ins and outs, ups and downs, of our lives.  Family time is dinner time – a daily ritual I savour.

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Day 153 of 365:

{One Word Writing Prompt: Angry}

True fact:

I don’t often show anger.  Generally, I’m pretty happy.

Sure, I have my moments of frustration.  Those  “Oh For F#*ks Sake”, slaps to the forehead flashes of annoyance.  Usually directed at myself.  For what turn out to be silly reasons.

I don’t usually let other people “get under my skin”.

Fifteen years of yoga practice and meditation has taught me how to let go of what does not serve me in a positive manner.

Negativity is something that I stay away from.  (I have actually become convinced that being negative about things is a trigger for my migraines – so, YUCK)

I guess all in all, I’m a pretty easy-going, not-easily-rattled, peaceful person.

Except.  Well…..

There is one thing that sets me into a tizzy….

One little, itsy-bitsy thing you can do to make me bristle.

And possibly bite your head off.

Don’t ever get between me and food.

’cause when my tummy is growling…

Get out of my way.

I may not always get angry.



Consider yourself warned….


And keep me happy.




-Janice 🙂


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Spork and Foon

Day 148 of 365:

{One Word Writing Prompt: Fork}

Take your offerings – they do not appeal to me.  The words you serve leave a sour residue on my tongue.

That dish you hold out looks pretty enough, from a distance, but the things you want me to swallow taste bitter, rancid and stale.

You toss around negativity with the dexterity of an ace culinarian, with spoonfuls of animosity in generous portions.  Perhaps, at first, your artfully arranged plate deceived me.  But now I have tasted what you dish.20160527_182828-001

And I will not have seconds.

So take your platter, and all that weighs it down: The rot.  The raw.  The stench of it all.  I want no part of anything you attempt to deliver.

The food you serve, is only ripe with deception, and plentiful in pain.  Put them back into the bottom of the barrel from which you scraped them up.

You may sling words like they are treasures and feasts to behold and to fill.

But all this fodder does not fit on my fork.

And besides…

I would rather starve.

More fiction.  The idea of no longer being able to stomach what someone serves you, of not allowing their “food” to sit on your fork, kind of resonates with one of the characters in the project  I am currently writing.  It’s a funny process, with these writing prompts – my ideas come out furiously, and I don’t really do a whole lot of refining before I hit ‘publish’.  This is quite raw and unpolished, but it fits.  




-Janice 🙂


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