Upon Reflection

Inspired by the Soul Food Café Prompt: Mirror Mirror on the Wall

The mirror, the only mirror I will allow in my house

is on the floor, next to the basement door that I keep locked

with a skeleton key.

I threaten that mirror

on a daily basis

about the trip, the one way trip

to the basement that I will send it on unless it says what I want to hear.

” Do we feel chatty today?” I asked it very late last night, or maybe it was very early this morning. At any rate it was dark outside. And the mirror had been silent for many years now.

” A little ” it said in a voice that reminded me of crackling ice.

” Good. So shall we try this again?” I asked as I crouched down towards the floor. ” Tell me mirror, what do you see? Do you see beauty? Do you see a face that could launch a thousand ships or do you see a terror of flesh layered with clumsy hands on crooked and broken bones. What do you see Mirror?”

” I see my face you evil witch, and I want it back!” the Mirror crackled and spat in a rage. ” Give me back my face!”

” The face you hated? The one you scorned, the one you were about to take to the surgeon to carve up and remake? I heard it call out for help.  We talked. It suited me just fine, I promised to never hurt it. So with me it will stay. Unless that is, you’re up to making an apology and a promise.”

” Go to Hell.” was the reply.

I picked up the mirror and considered smashing it against the door- the one I keep locked with a skeleton key- but instead I turned it against the wall and said. ” Enjoy the view my faceless friend, we’ll chat again soon. Maybe.”

For More Creative Stimuli Visit:

” While Waiting For Godot”

The Imp’s Dream

The Writing Tram: Poetry in Your Pocket


Smells like chalk

in an abandoned school house

where the air hasn’t been alive for a long time



Tastes like spoiled milk

hours after you swallowed it

now all you can smell is decay.



Sounds like a knock

coming from inside of your closet

when you are all alone in the house

and there is a  lightning storm raging outside



feels like

being soaked to the skin

and the rain won’t stop coming down


feels like

missing the last bus late at night

and not a soul is with you on that dark and lonely corner


feels like

waiting to hear your name

in a place

where nobody should know it.



My Favorite Quote

Many years ago,  after I  had finished reading  Pet Sematary I had a nightmare.

It was one of those dreams where you wake up and go through your regular routine and then:


My dog who had died a few years before was in my kitchen.

But I knew it wasn’t really my dog because Sham had orange wolf like eyes.

This dog had cat’s eyes and “Church” was written across his chest white chest in dark red ink.

And then he opened his mouth and I could feel his cold breath creep towards my face and he said:

I woke up screaming, of course.

This has been my favorite quote by King since that night.

My Sister’s House

Today I tried to answer the question- Who is the Bancroft Miniaturist?

Photo A.M. Moscoso


In my Sister’s mostly

bare and very dark house

is a room

that nobody is allowed to go into

and in that room

are shelves and shelves of glass lined cases.


In the cases

my Sister says

are bits of magic

held in delicate hand carved figures

that no one is allowed to touch

and they most certainly are not that for anyone to see.


Then what’s the point in having them

I asked, for the billionth time.


My Sister said

to me one day,

” Fine go ahead, go on in and touch what you want and see what

is there.”


She pushed the door open and took my arm

and before she could push  through I stepped back.


I heard what was in there

and what I heard was pleading and a little screaming too.


The voices sounded far away but they were coming from the shelves

and what they were saying was:


” I have eyes. I can’t see, why can’t I see anything? ”


My sister put her lips close to my ear and said,

” It’s because their eyes are ornamental. ”


I left my sister to her dark and mostly

empty house

and the magic she trapped

in glass cases

that nobody is allowed to touch or see.

Photo A.M Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Inspired By The Bancroft Miniaturist

When Memories Dream

Last month I took a train ride from Washington State ( which is on the West Coast of the U.S. ) to Wisconsin which is in the Midwest.

Riding on the train was interesting- it was a solitary way to travel- much more so then flying or even riding on a bus. I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s because you can get up and move around or away from people.

Which I did because I was coming down with a cold, so I wasn’t feeling very sociable.

I had my own little room for part of the trip so I took a lot of pictures and I watched movies on my DVD player because the internet is spotty in a lot of areas, plus I didn’t feel like surfing the internet when I could look out my window and surf the world.

I saw lots of interesting things- sadly enough one of my experiences was that someone was out on the tracks and they were struck and killed by the train I was on.

But before that happened we were passing through Montana when I saw the most interesting formations.

They were golden and sandy, they were honeycombed and in some places I suppose you could find little caves.

I was sitting there in my seat, watching the sky, when I saw them- and as we raced by I felt like I had seen something like these before- but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

So I went back through my camera later and it occurred to me why these formations looked so familiar-

they looked like something you would have seen in Deir el-Bahari or maybe in the Valley of the Kings

one reminded my or the Pharaoh Hatshepsut’s mortuary temple.

Keep in mind, they didn’t look exactly like these places, but they did speak to them and like ghosts they haunted me- and they still day.

Something strange that caught my eye on a train ride.

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M Moscoso


Photo A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Creative Memory#2

The Day I Got Scolded By A Tree Stump

One day

I went out to take some pictures.

Maybe, I thought

I will see something that wills inspire me, or give me nightmares or something.

In my mind’s eye I threw up a grid and started to methodically look for a little story to capture.

What I got was a bunch of nothing.

I had never deleted pictures so fast- on the other hand I’ve been getting a lot of things I haven’t liked so maybe I’m just getting better at hitting that delete key without putting much thought into it;

I was standing there, deleting pictures ( so glad I was accomplishing something ) and marveling at the fact that if there was a story to be found the only story I got was how fast ideas can run from you, if they put their mind too it.

Then I looked down and saw this stump and thought I could spook it up somehow for my Halloween posts this fall when I noticed…yeah, it looked like a face was staring up at me.



It even looked like it had a cigar in the corner of it’s mouth.

It also looked very annoyed.

At me.


I see a story in your future Sour Puss and in this one, I get the last laugh.


Thanks for the inspiration.


Bancroft Prompt: My Life As A Writer


If You Go Into The Woods…

I went for a walk in the woods

to maybe hear a  story, or find a story or maybe I just wanted to see what was there…

 I’m sure I was seen too.

I can only hope I was this fascinating:

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Inspired by the SFC Prompt: The Visitor


Last year I went to the Midwest to visit my son and to introduce myself to my first grandchild  and this was who sat in the next aisle over from me.

This is Loki.

Photo A.M. Moscoso

First off, I wasn’t sure how I felt about becoming a Grandmother because I listen to the Ramones and I eat Pizza and watch old horror movies every Friday with my dog because that’s what I’ve done since I was about five years old.

The only difference now is that I get to choose the pizza and all of the toppings for myself and I have a different dog but I let him eat pizza from his own plate next to me on the couch and NOBODY can tell me not to feed the dog in the living room  and to always let other people choose what went on the pizza because I wasn’t- as my family would put it ” Not God ”

So like I said, ” Anita is a Grandmother ” sounded a little funny when I said it out loud. I don’t feel grown up enough to have walked into that role.

You’re probably wondering, “what does this have to do with a dog named Loki who sat next to me on the airplane?

The God Loki was a trickster and to put it nicely, he was a bit of an underhanded cad.

So what was my takeaway from this?

I sat next to a dog named Loki on the day I was flying out to explore a new part of my life that I never saw myself living.

I could fly to this destiny and embrace the fact that I was a Grandma now and that it was probably time to cut off my hair and wear sensible outfits and become a little more patient and dignified.


I could keep in my that I was flying to this new stage of my life with a dog ( who are the best things  to have been  created ) named after God who was known for shape shifting.

In turn Loki shifted from flea, a kite, an old woman he had a wicked tongue and was evil in spirit and he was connected to flight.

I guess I knew that I might be changing or phasing and that’s ok.

As long as I remember Loki did all of those things with gusto, guts and bit of wickedness and probably humor to boot.

That I can do.

Photo A.M. Moscoso Hamish getting ready for ” Pizza Night “



The Wishing Well


Photo A.M. Moscoso

Her name is

Jingle Gravesend

and she was the there when the Sphinx was newly built

Her name is

Jingle Gravesend

and she was there when the Sun burst to life

in the sky.

Her name is

Jingle Gravesend

and she fought in the Crusades on a black horse

and wherever she rode

Death would step to the side let her have her way.

Her name is Jingle Gravesend


todays she sits by a Wishing Well

and she is  thinking  about her Cat

with the mismatched eyes

and her dog with two faces

and she is thinking about the years

she has spent

without them

then she hides her face in her hands

and she wishes with all of her might

after she drops her coins

into the Wishing Well  at  the Garden at Bancroft Manor

that  no one sees her crying.


Bancroft Manor: Creating Dossiers

Erasmus and Jingle Have A Chat

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Erasmus found Jingle exactly where she was everyday at around three o’clock in the afternoon.

She was in front of the window near the kitchens being “inspired.”

Today there was someone on the swing, twirling around and around seemingly oblivious to the man and woman watching them.

” So ,” Erasmus said. ” I suppose you may have heard we are down a Fortune Teller her at the Manor.”

Jingle raised her hand to the figure on the swing.

It continued to twirl.

” No. I hadn’t heard that.” She turned away from the window and Erasmus wasn’t she if that look of impatience and disgust was for him or the uninspiring Twirler outside.

” You wouldn’t have met up with her while you were out there looking for inspiration, did you.”

” Seriously Erasmus, what business would someone like me have with a Fortune Teller?”

” They have a way of getting at the heart of things, and if you have something to hide-”

Jingle turned back to the window and put her forehead against the glass. ” Yeah, well if that’s the case I just fell off your list of people to talk to. ”

Jingle turned to back to Erasmus and pointed to her chest. ” Haven’t had one in ages.”

Erasmus narrowed his eyes, which were very green and bloodshot ” That being the case, I don’t suppose you’ve seen anything unusual or out of place.”

” You’re kidding me, right?” she asked.

” No. I. Am. Not.”

“My first night here I saw a woman dancing on the stairs. She’s bad news Erasmus. She creeps me out, if you want to know the truth.”

Jingle cleared her throat, but to Erasmus it sounded like a growl.

Erasmus left Jingle to her quest for inspiration and he wondered, exactly what it took to scare a woman like Jingle. He wasn’t exactly sure he wanted to find out.

Bancroft Manor: Creative First Aid.