Blurb

The shoes didn't fit. It was an omen.













Sunday, September 27, 2015

Conspiracy Theories: Is It Me? Or What?

A lot has happened this past week. And some time tonight the full moon will turn blood red. It will be hanging over Jerusalem. It's the 4th one. The 1st one appeared last year on the Jewish Passover.

This morning the media claimed that it was a sign of the end of the world. People said that when Y2K was upon us. However, I never believed that. Or felt it coming.  And I also remember a song that played a lot while all the hype with Y2K was happening. R.E.M.'s, It's the End of the World as We Know It.

It wasn't until the following year that 'the end of the world as we knew it' happened. 9/11 and it was the beginning of me taking notice of America's laws changing drastically. Bush must've slipped his magic pen to Obama because things have really changed since his first inauguration.

Anyway. Moving on...

I don't know what you all have seen this past week, but I know what I saw and HEARD. It gave me chills while I watched.

In 5 minutes

Caught a glimpse

The Eye of Horus

A white throne

A man in a snow-colored robe

People singing

Shouting

Praising

Worshipping

A man

I wonder when Yeshua comes if people will give Him the same welcome? He is the true Prince of Peace. He is the Lord of Lords and the King of Kings. He's the only one who was born without sin. The living Torah.  No one can or ever will take His place.

My dreams have been telling me we are in for a rude awakening. Pretty words and empty promises have been spoken this week. They will be the demise of us all. I hope and pray you know Him.

Not to mention, R.E.M's, It's the End of the World As We Know It, has been playing in my head...ALOT!

So is it me? Or what?

Hugs and chocolate!
Shelly







Sunday, September 20, 2015

I Know...

Yes. I took last week off without notice. Rosh Hashanah snuck up on me. Yom Kippur is bolting toward me now. There's been a lot of fasting and praying from the Jewish and the Christian sides in my family. Not to mention, my No-No and her hubby live in Israel and Hamas has been firing rockets into near-by cities. The world around us is going crazy.

It's been distracting to say the least.

A lot has been going on that I haven't even shared, too. I needed to take a breather from blogging and social media all together. Hoping to get back to normal this week.

I hope everyone else is doing well.

Hugs and chocolate,
Shelly

Thursday, September 10, 2015

An On-Line Novel: The Immoral- A Wad's Worth

Ronald dropped his lunch sack into the bathroom sink. He scanned the mirror's reflection of the five urinals behind him. The room was void of students and teachers. Good.

He opened his brown bag and dipped his hand into it. From there, he plucked out the baggie holding his tuna salad sandwich. Perfect. He unsealed it, peeled the plastic away from the white bread, and bit into it and chewed. Too bad I have to waste this on stupid people. It took every ounce of him to not swallow as he turned the faucet knobs. Under the running water, he held a sheet of his notebook paper and soaked it. Not enough to let it fall apart, but just enough for him to carefully hold it up by two corners. After, he laid onto the counter making sure to keep it in tact and then spit his chewed up sandwich onto it. At the Lutheran school he had made a name for himself when it came to tactical spit balls. He was an expert.

Bite by bite. Chew by chew. Spit by spit. He made a ball in the middle of the damp sheet. Carefully, he brought up the corners around the small mound and wrapped it as tightly as he could without it falling apart. The smell of this thing would linger for the day. Too bad he didn't have a few anchovies in oil to add. God help the one this lands on today.

A crooked grin creeped across his face. He contemplated who deserved it the most and it wasn't Gruber. Maybe Miss Wadsworth. Yeah. Pictures formed in his head on how he would make sure it would hit her face. He'd worry about the consequences later.



Sunday, September 6, 2015

Celebrate!

First, Happy Labor Day! Hope yours is great.

Unfortunately, I will be loppity-lopping at The Salon tomorrow. Welcome to America the land of the enslaved. I could rant about this topic without a problem. But  I have great news instead.

My newest short story, Samah Ronit, has made it onto the Kindle Store Top 100 list. It's number 10 right this very minute and it's FREE until Tuesday.

You can find the link and cover to the left.

Hugs and chocolate!
Shelly




Thursday, September 3, 2015

An On-Line Novel: The Immoral : Attacked

Ronald glared back at the girls taunting his BFF.

"What's wrong, Kermy the Froggy?" the girl with the moppy head of curls said, jutting out her lower lip for emphasis. "Piggy get her feelings hurt?"

He didn't respond. Instead he cast his gaze on Cassandra noting her internal conflict.

She was holding her breath, scribbling arrows every which way on the pad Mr. Haggerman left with her.

He reached toward her and yanked the paper away from her.

Cassandra shot him a what-are-you-doing-look at him.

Across the top half, he scrawled down names he knew. Wadsworth and Gruber. And described the others. The whole far right row. The kid with the Jimmy Swaggert hair. He wasn't afraid of these creeps. They could all go suck eggs for all he cared.

His BFF frowned.

"Hey! Look!" Grueber blurted out. "Miss Piggy's boyfriend is Hangman's henchman. He's writing down our names!"

Ronald studied Cassandra's reaction.

She actually breathed only to suck in a gob of air and held it again, squeezing her eyes shut.

"Are you going to write my name down?" some boy shouted from his right. "My name is Alton with an 'A'!" The kid sounded proud.

"How about my name?" A girl with Coke-bottle glasses pounded on her desk to his BFF's left.

The whole classroom broke out into hysterical laughter minus Cassandra. Wadded up balls of paper pummeled against Ronald and Cassandra. Not long after, tiny wet pellets splatted against their cheeks, necks, and heads.

Ronald swiped at the one clinging to his neck. A spit ball. How mature. He'd show these maniacs who not to mess with. These kids needed a visit to the principal's office. That was for sure. Wonder what kind of paddle they use here? At the Lutheran school, they used a ping-pong one. He got it once in the sixth grade for shoving a girl into a thorn bush on the playground. It only took once to fix his wagon.

Cassandra blew out the air she held, gave Ronald a half-smile, and reached for the notepad he had taken from her. After, she wrote: THE ENTIRE CLASS MIS-BEHAVED WHILE YOU WERE OUT!

He gave her a supportive nod. He would back up his BFF in this.

More spit balls flew through the air. This time three plastered themselves onto Ronald's right cheek.

War had now been declared by these hoodlums and he wasn't going to let Cassandra take the heat for it. He would be there to defend her through thick and thin.

He bent toward his right, stuck his hand in his book bag, and fumbled for one of his spiral notebooks. Pulling a blue one out, he plopped it onto his desk and flipped it open. He thumb through three blank pages and ripped them out. A plan for retaliation formed in his mind.

Cassandra mouthed, "What are you going to do?"

He gave her an evil grin, knowing that his plan might get him a visit with the principal and his paddle. But whatever he planned had to be stealth-like. Something menacing. Something these Baptist freaks would never forget.

His BFF raised her brows. She wanted an answer.

He knew the look and stood.

"Where are you going?" she whispered loud enough for only him to hear.

"To the bathroom." He strutted past her with the three sheets of paper and his bagged lunch.

***

Cassandra knew this wasn't going to end well. She couldn't figure why her BFF would risk his first impression for these idiots. They're not worth it. Her way would be to ignore them.

She glanced at his back while he hooked a left into the hallway.

"Where's Kermit going, Piggy?" Grueber tapped her right shoulder. "Is going to eat some flies?"

Cassandra sneered at him over her shoulder. Even that was too much to offer the greasy boy sitting behind her. Wonder if he knows if the giant zit on his nose is about to explode? It was the one thing that stood out on him besides his shiny hair follicles.

Miss Wadsworth let out a snort and pressed her finger against her nose. It made her nostrils flare making her look like a piggish-look. She followed with more grunts and then began to squeal like the farm animal.

The rest of the class followed suit.

The class monitor swung her head around and faced the blackboard. What was taking Mr. Haggerman so long? And why did Ronnie have to leave her alone in a room full of spoiled brats?



Shelly Arkon © 2015