Write about… a Vanilla Protein Shake!

When my challenge is ignored I feel like a hole opens in my chest; tiny at first, but painful, sharp as a pin’s prick-prick-prick. With time the hole widens, and deepens, the pain swelling along with it to an unending, unbearable ache. I open Prose, and I open Prose, and I open Prose! That lonely challenge at the very bottom of the list taunts me; dirty, insulting, laughing. The hole in my chest grows a vortex, spinning and pulling at the very cruxt of my being, tattoo-ing my unworthiness forever.

With meandering time the vortex of shame grows, grows, GROWS… sucking my pride inside it, allowing anger space to build! My eyes stray to those cocky, snotty names watching my wallows from on high; those with their clever challenges, and their thousand upon thousand followers, and with fourteen entries on their challenge. Hey Lolly! Are they so smart? Do they teem with brilliance? I seethe and burn within my tornado lust, it’s hole ever widening, ever pulling, ever threatening now to drag my very soul within it. I brace, and strike-strike-strike at it’s heart, knife-less it is true, but with imagined talons and fangs, sharp and hoary.

But the vortex is strong. It pulls, pulls, pulls me inside. Dark is the room, dark the walls, dark the very air. I breath in the dark, and I exhale it, until I myself am the dark, swimming within it alive as it sucks me ever deeper inside. “My God!“ I despair. “There is still three weeks to go!”

And at the very core lies shame. The hole’s bottom runs deep-thick-slick with it. Calf high humility sludge, oozing through toes, slurping at skin, holding tight. It is a bad place, this. Vainly climbing; clawing, sliding, stretching and slipping, two up-three down in the cruddy, muddy mire. Why would they write… why would they… why? It is only me down here… it is only… me... alone. It is just me down here, drowning in Prose.

But wait! What there? An entry! Am I saved? Thank you, thank you, thank you! Oh, sweet and lovely ”Platty-puss!” I will follow you! I will read all of your writings! The world is no longer so dark, or life so tragic, and all for the kindness that is you!

Joy, joy, joy! Thank God and Platty-puss I have climbed, risen high above that smart aleck Huckleberry guy who has no entries on his stupid challenge.

Ha, ha! What a loser he is!