Christmas time is almost here.

Houses decorated, holiday cheer.

Black Friday shopping, gift deals.

Parent’s stress, budgets stretched.

Kids making their Christmas lists.

Elf on the shelf, a mistletoe kiss.

Presents wrapped, secretly hid.

Put up the tree, ornaments amid.

Following our family traditions.

Baking cookies, new Green dishes

Candy canes, family visits

Chronicling an adult’s Christmas.

Eagerly waiting for St. Nicholas.

Happy Saturday, Writers!

We have already received many fantastic submissions to The Prose Press. There are a limited number of spots to join The Prose Press publishing journey, so submit as soon as possible.

Our open call closes on March 15.

Check out the submission page for more information about the program and how to submit.

https://theprose.com/p/press

Have any lingering questions? Please email info@theprose.com.

Cheers,

Prose.

Dearest Writers:

Over the past 12 months, members of our community have expressed their desire to publish a book but lack of traction with agents or publishers. Our mission is to see members of our community succeed and fulfill their dreams of becoming published authors.

Enter, The Prose Press:

https://theprose.com/p/press

In collaboration with one of the fastest-growing educational companies, we started The Prose Press to give up-and-coming authors the platform to successfully write and publish their work.

Over the next few months, we will be inviting aspiring authors to submit their work and start their publishing journey with The Prose Press and share key pieces of their journey with you – their learnings, conversations, milestones, and excerpts.

If you are interested in turning your working manuscript into a real book, reach out to us.

Thank you to our supporters and community members for making this possible.

https://theprose.com/p/press

Cheers,

Prose.

I want to hold you close

and feel your breath

on my face as we

slow dance and

look into your

beautiful brown eyes

I want to touch

your face and feel

you breathe deeply

as I taste your lips

and tremble from

this long awaited kiss

As it ends, I pull back

and say, I hope

you liked that

and you surprise me

by touching my face

and kiss me back

And as this kiss ends,

we just hold each other

and you pull back

and ask…well?

and I simply say

I don’t want to ruin

this moment

And I touch your

hair and look in your

eyes and let the

words of a kiss

speak my response

aa I fall into your lips

you’re the warm waves that I sink into amidst the storm

"So Noah did everything exactly as God had commanded him (Genesis 6:22 NLT)."

I've heard this discussed in sermons, and the Bible backs it up: God wants to partner with us, and God seems to enjoy the process of things. He could have pulled a Thanos and wiped out everyone but Noah and his family with a finger snap, but he used a long flood to do the job, and he brought Noah and his family salvation by having Noah build the ark. He also entrusted animals to Noah's care in order for them to be able to fill the Earth up again later. God can do whatever He needs to get things done with His own power, but it is amazing that He wants to involve us in His work. It also gives me hope that God likes progress, which helps me in understanding that reaching my goals takes time, and what I put into it while working towards them will help when I get there, just like God was likely teaching Noah while he waited for the flood to end. Thank You Lord for a new appreciation of the classic story of Noah. Thank You for using me in Your plans. Please help me to appreciate the process behind things as much as You, and please help me to continue to grow and learn while I work towards my goals. In Jesus' name I pray, Amen.

I’m all alone, tired of trudging on earth restlessly. I’ve not had a vacation ever since...well, I stopped counting my time off a long time ago. Let’s just say that I have too many accumulated days I can use for eternity. Imagine the splendid time I’d have in the Bahamas or Tahiti.

I haven’t aged a day but my feet are soaring in pain and burning like they’re on fire. 

I’m heartless. My senses are numb. I have no empathy in my bones. There’s no grey line in my vocabulary; it’s only black and white. Pure and simple. I know how pathetic that might sound, not having a beating heart between my rib cages. It’s depressing being the one with a cold heart when life is made of rainbow colors. 

I guess life is for living. I have no experience with it. All I have heard that the color of life makes you feel exuberant and give you wings to fly into the endless sky, and makes you immortal even if you die. Such feelings are what makes humans different from the rest and humanity worth dying for.

My job is the dirtiest and scariest of all. I am a bounty hunter. I deliver people to their masters when their final due dates arrive unexpectedly because they owe debts to their lenders. It’s clearly stipulated in the fine prints they sign the day they are born that all debts must be paid in full. No exceptions to the rules.

When the alarm clock is sounded, I have to be there to drag them by the collar and dump them into the darkest pits regardless of their willingness. I don’t really care what happens to them after my job is done as long as I do mine perfectly. On-time, of course!

My name is death. I am the night keeper. Most people know me as the Angel of Death. I hate being called by that name if I can totally be honest.

Everyone is terrified of me whenever the lights go out, or the thunderstorm roars or something terrible happens in their lives as if their fate is forever sealed with mine; even though nothing is far from the truth. 

I loathe my nickname because it has a negative connotation and scares people away. They can’t fully look into my empty eyes. Whenever someone starts talking about me, most of them turn pale, shaking in fear like they saw a bone-chilling ghost, who’s choking the life out of them by their necks. I think that’s why I’m all alone until this day or forever.

I know they have good reasons for being petrified of me, for when I bring my wrath, I am so ruthless and merciless, even if humans clinch to hopes that never save them.  I am like a hit-man for hire. I don’t discriminate or ask questions. I just answer whenever the call comes at any time.

Once the wire is hot, I drop everything I’m doing and go to work right away. No job is too big or small. My delivery service is exceptional because I deliver on time without an exception or excuse.

But I get upset when people blame me though. 

When fate closes their doors, I’m who they see first. They’ve never stopped to think that I don’t have much of a choice like them or have full control over their final destinations. What they don’t realize is that I’m just doing my job in this never-ending carnage of soul collection business. All I do is pick up and deliver. For once, however, I wish if I could be a messenger of good news. 

But, “no news is ever good,” as one wise person once said.

The other day, for example, I was on the brink of a nap and almost fell asleep when my employer called me to pick up a few people. It was in a broad light in one neighborhood, rain of darkness poured down and killed a ton of people. I didn’t ask or whine why for the interruption of my loneliness drifting but had to complete the task asked of me instead. 

The calls never stop coming. Although I’m so exhausted beyond control and have tried not to exacerbate people’s lives, I have no choice in matters but answer the calls on time. It’s on my business logo. “On-Time Delivery. Anytime without Exceptions!”

midnightink 7-28-2020

I'm not sure how helpful it is for me to answer this, because I have a curse called bipolar disorder. It essentially forces me to go from the lowest of lows to the highest of highs without much caring how I feel about it.

That's not to say people with bipolar disorder can't also face suicidal depression, or are not at risk for it; it's a spectrum, like anything, and everyone's experience is different. But in my experience, if I allow my brain to stay at depression levels too long it'll get sick of my shit and say "Hey, time for something different" - then I'll flip into what they term a "manic episode", where I will literally feel like a god and make horribly irresponsible decisions until I'm sedated and my brain chemistry resets.

I've only hit this point in my life once (thank god), and it taught me two things: 1) I have some killer self-preservation programming, and that's okay 2) When I don't take care of myself, other people suffer for it.

The second of those realizations is what spurred me to get myself back together. My family has tried their whole lives to raise me to be happy and healthy. I have parents, siblings, a partner, and friends who really care about me. It's not about the numbers of them, because honestly it only takes a handful; but when I think about how my actions impact them - or how awful it would be if I did something stupid and got myself killed - then I realize that my existence isn't just my own.

I am a supporting character in other people's lives. I provide laughter, comfort, and comraderie. I don't have much choice in my role, but as a berserker I won't go down easy; it'll take a lot piled on to bring me to my knees. That also means I can take on more when needed. If my friends need someone to dump / vent to, I can handle it. When life gets shitty and those I love need help, I won't give up. I can be the person others can depend on because I literally can't quit, I can only go insane (for better or worse).

That said, my weakness is that I can't transfer this curse to anyone else. It's not like I can bite somebody and turn them into some biochemically-induced emotional barbarian. I've had several loved ones suffer from suicidal depression; I've nearly lost some, and lost at least one. It is heart wrenching. No matter how hard I try, or even literally beg, it feels like I can't help or do anything to make it better.

I've had to accept over the years that no matter how much I try, it's up to people to find their own will to go on. They have to find the spark inside themselves; I can't force them. It makes me feel hollow, like a revenant doomed to watch those around them fall while fighting alone in the darkness, until something finally takes me down.

If I could give any advice, it would be to look to your adventuring party. You may not think you have one, but you do. There will always be someone whose life is brighter with you in it. Life is a co-operative game; we all play it together. When you need support reach out to them - don't let them lose you without a fight.

Because it's lonely fighting on in the darkness.

And your light is not something that can ever be replaced.