Sunday Whirl – Jack Frost

I question the sanity of my shady game of chicken with January. The gravity of situation figures to assemble a list of things taken. Superstition of Jack Frost told in ice grains on my skin.

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Sunday Whirl – Logic

The silver light tells that nothing exists as the middle seam holding this illusion together. Mighty rumors swing like vines ditching warnings of why and how. No wonder logic seats lost here.

Sunday Whirl – Caught in a Web

“Tina?” I question her feigning shock.

The word like a shard of broken glass on the tongue. Slippery, like the truth, time chains me to the moment. My mind runs for greener grass. But the screen I use for reason, fails to catch what I need to escape.

Sunday Whirl – Lonely Thoughts

If escapes exist they would drive wishes to compose a thank you song. The party sounds thirsty to be joined pushes other to attend.

Sunday Whirl – Games without Frontiers

It was clear her taunting use of body was a lesson. With the fury of a war mission, despite the price I would pay, disbelief would be no option. I would slide into the dirt beneath her motives if necessary. I can win this game, or so i thought.

Sunday Whirl – Fate Denied

My sly smile blossoms. I have denied the child’s fate. An anxiety closet with a tapestry weaver in decline will soon be renting somewhere else.

Sunday Whirl – Milling Dreams

Blindly wandering through the drizzle, my bad dream puts me in the middle of two hills. The gloom lifts to reveal a mill. I pause before I knock on the door. The door swings open. There stands a trim man dressed as a king.

My mouth opens but words fail to emerge.

Suddenly an alarm changes everything.

Sunday Whirl – Personalities

You challenge me with a route teeming with pretense. I should jump at the dearth of shock you attempt. How is it possible one could care so lightly? Not as individual drug, nor bulk helps to deal with you.

Ambitious- wordle 320

I struggle with my fringe power. It’s mysteries swirl then list like shooting star. My brain storms new roads to charge down. At last comes a sigh. I have gone nowhere.

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Sunday Whirl – Gambling

A bag of answers laugh at me. I’ll reflect upon the smoke of my options left bare. Agents of misfortune band together casting their stones back at my direction.

Time to leave blackjack tables.