Poor Spirit

The old typewriter had a mind of its own. But not an educated one.

It came from the estate of Madam Petulengro. According to the local press, she was once a noted psychic and medium. She earned a living channeling voices from the great beyond, the spirit world, so I theorized the typewriter must be haunted by one of her spirits.

It didn’t write with spirit. I had estimated it typed at a second grade level; including misspellings, typos, grammar and punctuation.

So I guessed it wouldn’t be making me rich and famous by ghost-writing great literature, after all.

Prompt: Monday’s Finish the Story for this week.

Photo by Barbara W. Beacham

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Oh no, not Sunday.

For most people, Saturday’s a nice day off.

For me, it’s a living nightmare. (Because for most people, Saturday’s a nice day off). We’re talking a Dawn of the Dead, zombie-invasion, post-apocalypse un-fun time.

What I would like my Saturday to be:

Wake up with a terrific story idea, that kind that my subconscious wrote for me, and I just have to get it down before it fades away.

Then pop in a movie, relax on the couch. Just chillax and enjoy not-working. You know, like most people.

But that isn’t what I get. That’s never what I get.

Rather than launching another bitch-and-moan session, I’ll just move on and try to enjoy my evening, instead. The next horror show isn’t until tomorrow morning, after all.

Hmm. I might make that one.

“Invasion of the American Public“. Rated XXX, this film may be too frightening for younger viewers.

Remember when people were raised right? ::Shake my cane:: Get off my lawn, damn kids!

What’s your ideal Saturday morning? Are you doing those things this morning? Why not?