An Eighth Shot of Espresso: Coffee and Creativity on Mum's Third Shift

Another #firewords280 prompt on Bluesky. The words are "maniacal" and "laughter". This is the longer version of the poetry piece I posted there. The sound of maniacal laughter echoes from the old Victorian sanitarium the rooms are empty but heavy footsteps drag down the halls singsong crooning just out of hearing range the foundation is crumbling the rats made their homes generational their neighbors  the bats in the rafters chains and restraints on the bed frames they're for safety, you see this hurts me far worse than it does you a wretched life away from the sun the windows boarded up against the cold how many lost souls wander the corridors How many dark secrets hide in the corners?

Posted for #firewords280 on Bluesky. The prompt words were "vacant" and "sockets". This is the longer version of the poem (I had to fit it into 300 characters for a Bluesky post). vacant stare  from empty  eye sockets cracks deep set across white bone pieces missing like a jigsaw puzzle shattered by time buried by ignorance mouth in a  perpetual grin  as if humoring the other unfortunates scattered around in unmarked piles jumbled together with no rhyme or reason no dignity or shame at the end it could have been any one at any time past or present what happened to you  sword or sickness treachery or plague where did you  meet your end  on the battlefield breath rattling out in a bed the whisper of an axe whistles on the scaffold what stories can you tell  Take your time  to form your words  without a voice.  I can wait.

  Prompt from  “ 642 Things to Write About” by the San Francisco Writers’ Grotto ): The corpse you saw in the Undertaker's window She looked almost alive. Almost. The false flush of life in her sallow cheeks. Eyes closed in a timeless sleep. Dark hair set in curly waves across her shoulders and hands clasped serenely over her breast. She looked almost alive Almost. White satin and lace a black rose in the bodice. Delicate silk gloves to the elbow. Ivory stockings a garter on her thigh never thrown. She looked almost alive Almost. Long lashes against a colorless cheek. A trusting smile frozen in time. Never knowing the betrayal the lurked behind the eyes of her beloved. She looked almost alive Almost. If she could take another breath and feel love in her cold, cold heart Perhaps she could find happiness within a den of hungry vipers whose lives are worth more than just a sack of coin. She looked almost alive Almost. Displayed in the undertaker's window. A tragic doll cloth...