Betsy Takes a Drive


Photo by Sebastian Voortman on

” This place really is a ghost town”  Victor said to Betsy.

They were standing next to Betsy’s car on that hot, dusty August afternoon, in a town that used to be called Milton.

Betsy was holding a water bottle full of warm water but she drank it anyway because it was wet and her mouth was full of grit. ” Yeah, well it’s dead alright. Dead and as dry as an old bone. ”

Victor shook his head when Betsy offered him a drink from the bottle that was now full of floating bits of whatever had made it’s way into Betsy’s mouth when the air conditioner in the car decided to stop working and she rolled the windows down for some moving air. ” Really Betsy?”

” Your loss.”She put the cap back on the bottle and tossed it back into her car. ” Yep. ” This is a ghost town alright. I wonder when it, you know, keeled over as it were.”

” Don’t know, don’t care. Let’s just take a quick look around and get back on the road. It’s not getting any cooler out  in case you haven’t noticed.

Betsy wondered what time it was. Betsy always wondered what time it was because she never wore a watch.

Betsy thought she could hear the dry dead grass creaking and popping against the warm dry breeze but that might have been what she thought she should be hearing.

As Victor  had pointed out, this was a ghost town and she had a hard time imagining any part of it- even the light brown grasses and weeds had ever been alive.

” What do you think this place was like, when it was alive.”

Victor stopped, with his back still to Betsy and she could see his shoulders hitch back a little. ” Have a hard time picturing it, do you” he said.

” Well yeah, I mean look at it. It’s like it never took a breath.”

Victor stopped and faced Betsy. ” You must be one Soulless creature to not be able to picture something ever having been alive. You have no imagination,do you? That’s a sure sign of having something wrong with you. Not being able to comprehend anything outside of your own head is not a sign of well adjusted human being.”

In one quick step Betsy was almost nose to nose with Victo. ” I got plenty of imagination. How do you think we got here?”

They both looked down at their feet and the smooth slightly raised mound of earth below their feet.

” It’s a puzzle to me Betsy, how I got here.” Victor said looking down into her face, into her eyes that were as dull and flat and lifeless as the Ghost Town around them.

Betsy smoothed a little patch of dirt with her foot and something  white and slightly  pitted appeared under her toe. ” It’s a puzzle to me too.”

Then the ghost town shimmered in the heat and it blew away on a blast of warm air.

Betsy and Victor and her car were on an empty road and above them was a fiery red sky and ahead of them was a blood red horizon. ” I don’t know why you’re here Victor. But I know why I am. I guess I should be going now.”

Victor nodded and Betsy  started to walk to the driver’s side of the car and she stopped. ” I guess you want to see where I’ll end up.”

” I think I know Betsy.”

Betsy looked up into a sky full of falling stars. ” I think I know too,  Victor.”

Inspired by the Soul Food Café Prompt: Bad Girl On The Block



Hallow Me


Photo by Kristina Paukshtite on

When I was a child I was inspired by Halloween.

I was moved to create art- either on a pumpkin or by drawing Halloween pictures ( which were pretty horrifying because I couldn’t draw and anything I did draw ended up looking like a disjointed mess ) or by putting together ideas for costumes.

I always wanted to be a dog or a space alien or a monster but somehow I ended up compromising with my Mom and my Paternal Grandmother by wearing one of my Easter dresses. Coupled with  little makeup I was  transformed into a last minute ‘princess’ or I’d get one of those costumes in a box that were all the rage back in the early 1970’s.

So yes, I was moved to create some kind of art at Halloween but I just was not very good at it.

The funny thing is, it didn’t stop me from trying every single year to ‘get it right’.

I never really did and at the end of the Halloween Holiday I was always left with the feeling I had spoiled my own fun.

But then one day I started a blog at the Soul Food Café and before you could say ” Grave Robbing Ghoul” I was celebrating Halloween like a crazy person all over the internet.

I wrote stories, posted pictures and read tons of material that other writers were posting on line and then I took it from the web and I went out and looked at Ghost Tours and Haunted Houses with fresh eyes and got to experience the Halloween fun all over again.

I was inspired by Halloween to try my hand at creative endeavors AGAIN and this time I got it right.

So if I were to give my muse a name I guess it would be  ” Halloween” and if I were to give it a face- well…what do you think of this one?

Inspired by the SFC  prompt: Inside The Sea Shell

On Your Mark….

Photo A.M. Moscoso

In November I am going to return to Victoria BC for a little adventure.

I am going to go on a couple of tours where I will learn some haunted history and I’ll get to learn a few ghost stories too.

I am going to the Royal BC Museum to see among other great exhibits one called ” Egypt: The Time of Pharaohs. I have learned that there are over three hundred original artifacts and that some are 4,500 years old.

But first I have to get through the rest of the Summer and I have Halloween to write about and celebrate.

I hardly know where to start first.

And that I think is the rush of excitement you feel before you set out on an adventure that promises to be a great one.


Fun In A Frame

A couple of years ago I decided to try my hand at photography.

It’s been hit and miss composition wise and sometimes I try to shoot one thing and end up with something else. I’ve also tried photoshop and I’ve tried different apps to alter and enhance my pictures.

I’ll be the first to say, photography is a struggle for me but much like Poetry I have so much fun doing it that I really don’t care about being perfect or polished or concerned that anyone will be impressed by what I produce.

Sometimes you just have to let yourself play and every once and awhile you get something great out of it.

These pictures  are the first pictures I took when I just decided to go out and shoot some frames to see what I would get.

I think I’ve learned a few things since I took these a few years ago, but regardless I’m proud of them.

Plus I had fun taking them so it was a win all around for me.


Inspired by the SFC Chocolate Box Prompt: Creating with the heart of a child.

Photo A.Moscoso

Photo A.Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Photo: A.M. Moscoso

The Greens

I used one of the Soul Food Cafe’s story starter prompts as today’s Writing Challenge.

For this challenge I just sat down and wrote without stopping for twenty minutes. I liked the idea that popped up so much I might go back and clean it up for a Halloween story.

It’s based on  the SFC PROMPT: FLIES


Photo by Alex Andrews on

The name of the family that lived on Davenport Road before it abandoned and forgotten by the town and then the rest of the world was Green.

The Greens were a Father, a Mother and their four children.

Somebody at a Fourth of July picnic shared over the pie table  that Father Green may have served time in jail and Mother Green may have had something to do with the disappearance of her baby brother and two of the family dogs when she was a child but that was just talk.

Still- none of the Green Children looked like either one of their parents and all of them had the odd habit of always appearing at the corner of your eye- or you’d see them scuttling away from you and around a corner or through a doorway before you could ever really get a good look at them.

One less then charitable resident of Fletcher- which was the name of the town Davenport Road was part of- compared the way they Green Children scurried around as being rodent like.

Mrs. Parker who was helping at the picnic that day said under her breath to that observation, ” They scuttle around like bugs. Those children give me the willies.”

Everything started to go bad in Fletcher right after the 4th of July picnic- the houses got moldy, the plants and trees and the lawns either dried up and died or they simply rotted.

In addition to that unfortunate state of affairs,  six cats, four dogs, a horse and three children and two infants went missing, the corn caught some sort of blight and was wiped out before you could say, ” what the hell is eating at the crops?”

No one living in Fletcher had it in them to get angry or suspicious or to even pack up and run.

That’s because they simply stopped doing anything except for maybe blink when something hit their eye and some of them coughed when dust ( it was just dust, right?) drifted up into their noses and mouths.

They just stopped where they stood on the day the Sun turned blood red and so did the Moon.

Some of people- like the people at the Pie Table at the picnic were sitting at their kitchen tables or in their cars.  Some of Fletcher’s residents who had an inkling that something was going very wrong  were hiding in their attics or basements when they too, like everyone and everything else just stopped.

They could see a hear a little, some could see and what they saw where the Green Children- scuttling and scurrying, tasting and touching and eating everything and anyone who caught their eyes.

Some of the people, who patiently waited their turn for a visit from the Green Children wondered why they only ever saw four of those children- there were so many of them.

Hundreds of them.



Dream of The Headless Horseman

When I was a child

I believed in monsters- all of them- werewolves, vampires, The Creature From The Black Lagoon, The Invisible Man, Brains that lived in tanks and could fly around in the air trailing their brain stems behind them like kite tails.

I believed there were haunted castles, Graveyards where more then one unlucky soul was buried alive and I wanted for some odd reason to be The Headless Horseman even though I’d have to be headless.

At some point I must have justified that odd factoid- though I’m guessing it’s because I was never considered an attractive child or even a very smart one. So who needs a head if you are me, right?

Why not celebrate not needing an ugly useless head? I could Be something scary AND headless plus I’d get to ride a horse.

That was my take on the world before I was 7 years old.

It’s one thing to wrap our minds around this sort of darkness when we are adults.

Who wants to think, when we look down into the face of our children or grandchildren that there is a darkness there and that maybe, just maybe it is being held safe and quiet by the innocence of a child- until it is time for it to break free.

From The Soul Food Café Prompt:

Chocolate Box: Exploring the Brave New World of Childhood Innocence

The Bridge Partner

I love stories and films that get into your head word by word or frame by frame and before you know it you are trapped in the author’s  nightmare and you couldn’t scream yourself awake  even if you wanted to.

This short film is one of those stories.

It truly is sublime.




Even though they are not my favorite foods, I have decided to open up a little gift I found in the achieves at the Soul Food Café.

It’s a great series of creative prompts called ” The Chocolate Box

The first chocolate  I clicked is called ” The Artists’ Party ” 

There are a lot of ideas in this prompt that you can use to create a mood or a story or a painting or even a photograph.

I decided to go through my photo journal to see what kind of pictures I have taken of trees- did I hug the tree as suggested by the prompt.

I probably should have because the trees I had taken pictures of seemed to be telling a story, or maybe I caught them in the middle of an act or just thinking about whatever it is trees think about.

In other words, we shared a moment.

That was a gift, no matter how you look at it.



Photo A.M. Moscoso
Horicon Marsh,
Wapun, Wisconsin

Photo A.M. Moscoso
Amish Farm
Wisconsin, USA

Photo A.M. Moscoso
Fox Lake, Wisconsin