Monday’s Muse Writing Prompt: May 14, 2018


OPENING LINE(S): “I’m not going to let you drown,” he said, spitting out salted water. His/Her/My limbs felt like sinking lead in the water but the stranger’s grip on his/her/my collar was more than enough to keep them/us afloat. Solid ground was just in the distance promising safety, explaining why they’d/ I’d jumped in the water in the first place was another problem in and of itself. 


  • Using the above line and the picture provided, (Or a line of your own choosing) create a story (or even a poem) within up to 20 minutes.
  • Once you have finished your super awesome masterpiece, add a link in the comments section of THIS POST to your story for others to read, as well as a link on your page back to this original post for others to follow along and write with as well. In your “tags” section, add the tag “MondayMuse.”
  • To get the Above Image follow this LINK

If you do not have a blog of your own, leave me a comment and send me an email to and I will post your lovely words here on my blog.


*Originally posted on June 13, 2016

~Dream. Imagine. Believe. Do. CONQUER!

~Dream. Imagine. Believe. Do. CONQUER!


Out to Abundance: Faith for Creatives

we went through fire and water, but you brought us out to abundance.” ~PSALM 66:12

Another translation of this portion of scripture says, “We went through the fire and through the water, but You brought us out to rich fulfillment.”

Here is what we as Creatives and People of Faith have to take note of:


Before we are able to take hold of and step into the new level that God has for us, we must be prepared for it. Who we are before the process is not who we will be on the other side of it when we take possession of what the Lord has promised and called us to.

Fire. Consider the occurrences of forest fires, not the ones that are caused by human negligence, but those that take place as a part of the circle of creation.

These fires are natural. They may cause great devastation, but, they bring greater enrichment to the ecosystem.

Water. Water, rain, are necessary for the nutrients to be able to get into the soil for the new abundance to spring forth from the newly enriched ground.

Sometimes it seems that we go from one trial straight into another. I will not say that this isn’t a difficult thing to endure, but we can endure it through and with Christ Jesus.

Now this is what the Lord says—the one who created you, Jacob, and the one who formed you, Israel—“Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by your name; you are mine. I will be with you when you pass through the waters,
and when you pass through the rivers, they will not overwhelm you. You will not be scorched when you walk through the fire, and the flame will not burn you…Because you are precious in my sight and honored, and I love you, I will give people in exchange for you and nations instead of your life. Do not fear, for I am with you…” ~ISAIAH 43:1-2,4-5a CSB

Because the Lord has loved us and has called and created us for a purpose, we can be assured, even as we go through our trials on the way to our possession that:

  1. He will be with us
  2. He will protect us from harm
  3. He will bring us out into abundance
  4. We do not have to be afraid
  5. We are LOVED

Remember, gold without fire is never purified and faith that has not been tested cannot be trusted. Allow the faith within you to be enriched by the process of the fires, sated by the waters, and mature in trusting His word as you receive the abundance that is yours.

~Poiema, Poetry in Motion

When The Waters Recede: Short Story Results for Monday’s Muse Writing Prompt July 27th

His heart seemed to burst with emotion at the sight of the waterline. The flooding had damaged everything in a three mile radius of the river, but the little church, her recent investment, their last chance at hope, stood as a dry beacon of promise, perched on the slopping hillside.  1394205446tbv46

Troyer waded through the almost waist high water, the scent of mud and grass tickled at his nose, but there was something pleasing about the fragrance, something soothing. It reminded him of dew and sunshine and her, in his arms.

His water boots lost their footing as he pushed up the tiny slop towards the church doors. A curse parted his lips with a frustration that seemed to wash away once he dunked his soiled hands in the cool water.

The water. It had damaged so much, left so many in ruin and devastation, but somehow, in that moment with its coolness swirling around the callouses of his hands, right at the foot of the slop to the church he had not wanted to buy, the water felt like a baptism.

It had taken him almost a full year to clime out of the darkness he had fallen into once he said his last goodbye to her, cursing the cancer that had snatched her life away, and shunning God for letting it happen. But now, with the seat of his pants soaking up the mud of the earth and his hands bathing in the waters edge, tadpoles zipping in between his fingers, Troyer felt…new, alive again.

When he saw on the news that the river had flooded its banks and swept through the county like wipers against a windshield, Troyer thought he was dying all over again. He had not dared to come back here, look at her vision, feel the pain anew. But he couldn’t resist, not with uncertainty pressing against his shoulder blades. He needed to know that some part of her, some glimmer of her joy was still standing here on earth.

And it was. The white clapboards looked to have been scrubbed clean and doused with a fresh coat of paint from where he sat. Troyer knew better. They had already talked about how much they would have to invest in order to convert the old chapel into a beautiful home. They planned to have started that spring right after their wedding…

Tears stung his eyes and his fist clenched beneath the clear water sending the tadpoles off in a scurry. Troyer pushed himself up from the ground and carefully up the slop of the hill. His heart had crawled up into his throat, dragging up the raw pain that he had worked so hard to swallow down.

No amount of anything had helped in the beginning. Slowly he allowed God to touch his wounds, help him keep breathing.

The keys he pulled from his pocket jingled like bells for all the shaking in his hands. He blew out a breath and turned them in the lock, the movement so much like he was opening up his heart again to see where he had last buried his hope.

Stale air washed around him as the doors creaked open. Dust particles, danced in the beams of sunlight that cut in from the stain glass windows. Everything looked so untouched, neglected but screaming of promise, the same way it had when she had convinced him to buy it with her.

Tears shook his shoulders and caused his eyes to blur. A mixer of pain and joy swirled on the inside of him. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. He could almost smell her here.

“Is everything alright?” Avery, her former assistant called from the porch. Troyer swiped the wetness from his eyes and tried not to scowl. He had asked Avery to stay in the truck, but like always she didn’t listen. He couldn’t be mad at her. They had both lost so much when she had died, both of them were searching for hope to move on in their own way. Avery just tended to piggy back off of Troyer’s choices.

“Everything is,” He glanced around the sanctuary and took a deep breath, a smile growing on his face, hope welling up within him. He turned towards Avery. “Everything is going to be fine. I’ll start building as soon as the waters recede.”


I hope you enjoyed this peek into Troyer’s world and life. Grief is hard, I didn’t even know he was grieving until I let my fingers kiss the keyboard. I do have a sneaking suspicion that there just might be more then home building in store for Troyer especially with Avery playing his shadow. Love is always in the air for me…at least in my imagination. 


The Breech: Monday’s Muse Writing Prompt Result from July 6th


NOTE: This story sprang on me in a different way than the others. This is actually a continuation of another tale that I have been working on for a little while. I recommend you taking a look at the first two installments before reading this one. You can find them by clicking the link HERE and HERE

The walls to their borders were strong, but not so much so that they couldn’t break through them. They had built them after all.

The ramparts looked to have been completely deserted upon first glance, as if Odwaht-Ibria was a ghost city. Argasso shook his head, his massive dreaded mane swayed from side to side. “They must be fools. They are repeating their old ways of war.” He jutted his chin towards the walls.

Thaylon reached his brother’s side. “Is this what they did when they were first conquered by Ibria?”

“No,” Argasso shook his head. “Before, they had not even known we were coming. This is a tactic they used to practice when other supposed conquerors reached the boarders. It worked to keep the others out and to defend the territory. It will not work against us, however.”

Thaylon considered the walls again. Their size and strength were intimidating. The only way into Odwaht-Ibria was through the wall, but that would be greatly guarded somehow. Thalyon couldn’t see how they would manage a breech without the loss of life for either side.

He said, “The walls are sturdy, thick. The city is built within the mountain and the water. What is our option?”

Argasso began to remove his leather vest and guards, a smile turning the corners of his full lips. “Thaylon, those walls are thick and sturdy because they were rebuilt by Ibrian engineers after we destroyed the old ones formed by Odwaht. The secret is that when we constructed these walls, we made certain to have a way in that even the inhabitants were not privy to, just in case something foolish like this were to happen.”

He stashed his leathers in a pile and pulled his hair back in submission to a band. Thaylon considered the wall again, searching for some secret to give itself away to his imagination. Nothing came.

Argasso whispered in his ear. “I hope you have learned how to hold your breath, little brother. For we shall take Odwaht-Ibria from under the sea.”

Thaylon’s dark eyes glanced down to the waters lapping up against the sides of the walls. He could not help but smile in turn. War may not have been something he was familiar with, but swimming was as second nature. He had been training to be a fishermen after all.

He began to remove his leathers as well.


I hope you enjoyed this short installation of this story. I hope you took the detour and read through the first 2 installments to this tale. I wasn’t expecting to go back to these characters in this way but I am glad I did. Storytelling is so important to me! 


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Untitled: Results for Monday’s Muse Writing Prompt: June 15


Hello all! Here are my results for Monday’s Muse writing prompt. To see the original post with rules and first line, please click HERE. 


Face puckering with confusion, she glanced back down at the map, its inky words on parchment glowed with opalescent  splendor as the arrow of the drawn compass pointed straight ahead, the door was straight ahead, down the path of turquoise water. 

It could have been worse, she thought to herself. She had already been through worse since she came here…wherever here was. She had no idea how she had gotten where she was. All she could remember was that she should never lose the map in her hands and that she had to get home.

Even her name seemed to attempt to allude her from time to time. “Arlista, Alrista Raymond. Twenty eight years old.” She glanced down at the diamond cluster on her left ring finger. “Married?” She pressed her eyes closed, shaking her head. “Not married, yet. No wedding band. Engaged!” She perked. “To someone…Gosh I hope he is worth it.”

She had not realized she had started to walk along the sandy beach until the scrapping sound of the compass arrow began to cry out from the parchment in her hand. Sighing she moved back towards the path of the doorway and not a second to soon.

The call of the hounds and the men, should she be so bold to call the haggard figures that, began to echo out in the distance. They had found her!

Taking a nerves breath and pinching back tears that had once again began to sting her eyes, Arlista took her first steps towards the door. It should have been an easy task, would have been if she weren’t terrified of water and the risk of drowning.

“Please, Lord, don’t let the water be too deep or the current too strong.” She slid forward as water saturated the cotton canvas of her tennis shoes. The barking growls grew even closer, pushing Arlista to move faster. She was much more decided that she would rather drawn then fall prey to her pursuers.

Biting her lip and squeezing her fist so tightly around the parchment that she felt it crumple in her hands, she dashed towards the door, only she did not feel the water rising up her legs, nor did she feel the sprays of mist against her face.

What she felt and heard instead was the hallow sound of rubber soles smacking solid ground, echoing throughout an expansive hallway.

The dip that rocked her belly should have been sign enough that something had changed, the heat of the map in her hands also a telltale sign. She allowed herself only a few short seconds to fully asses her new surroundings.

She was indeed walking on water, which drew a dry gulping swallow from her throat, but she was also in a hallway standing before a massive black, lacquered door that had no handle.

Her throat suddenly tightened as the ghastly hounds and them that rode them slide to a stop on the shoreline of the beach. Arlista obviously hadn’t moved fast enough.

Watching them charge her forced her hand towards the handle-less door with the intent to pound against it for entrance. It was a worthy thought but one that was completely unnecessary.

The map had acted as key, swinging the door open on its hinges and letting Arlista drop inside its darkness just as the hounds and the pursuers were swept away by a wave of turquoise water.


I had a lot of stops with this story, as I received four phone calls as soon as I put my fingers to the keyboard. Alas, I still honored the time limit and finished writing within 20min. I am not sure what the beginning of this story is or what its end will be but it does garner some interest and curiosity. Who is Arlista and how did she get the map? 

I hope you enjoyed reading and do feel free to give the writing prompt a try! And be sure to share your results?


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Sleeping Earth: A Vector Drawing

Sleeping Earth
“Sleeping Earth” by Candice Coates

When I began this blog in December of last year, I spent most of my time focusing on my drawing (as visual art goes.) I touched on some painting and even a bit of calligraphy, but I never really showed any of my digital art. Did I ever tell you that I have a degree in Graphic Design? Well, I do.

I will say that for the most part, I have not spent very much time exploring vector art for vector art’s sake…until today. Otherwise, I am making images of invitations and what not.

“Sleeping Earth” was/is a random design, headed in one direction and ended up here.  I think I shall continue to flex my digital muscles and see what else pops up. I also think I will be making copies of this image and any others that are created in the future for sale on my Etsy store.

~Dream. Imagine. Believe. Do. CONQUER!



Journey to north end: Finale

The water was like acid slicing through the dryness that had constricted his airways. It burned even to touch his tongue but called up a desperation for more from deep within him. Crell needed more.

He hacked and clawed at his throat and face, his eyes felt like heavy weights were holding them closed but at the same time, with each desperate attempt to blink the weights tore away.

“Crell?!” Rosie’s voice was panicked and muffled, but she was there, right there, her hands touching his face. “Get more water! Those things don’t like water!” She yelled at his crew.

The vessel shook again with a dizzying tail spin before jerking as if it had been caught be something from beneath. Crell tried to open his eyes again but found himself gasping for air.

1372324928s7mvsHis body seized from the stabbing chill of more water, and the burn of his flesh sucking it in again. He growled through clenched teeth, holding tightly to Rosie’s hand.

“They’re almost off. They are all almost-” Her voice transitioned from sounds of relief to shrieks of terror. Rosie grabbed hold of Crell’s shirt and pulled him closer to her, nearly smothering him.

The sounds of fear suddenly broke through the dullness of his once blocked ears as more of the growths fell away, retreating from the water. Even his eyes were free to open. He wished they had stayed shut.

The assaulting scent of the creature from below was bad enough; the stench of stagnant water laced with the body rot of other victims who had plunged beneath the blooms was paralyzing. The first of the creatures boarded the vessel, its leather skin stretched taught across jagged bone and rippled muscles. Its face was the shape of a sharp ‘v’ drawn with dark creases exposing teeth like that of a sharks.

It expanded its long clawed arms and let out a cry that forced Rosie to let Crell go. For the first time ever, Crell wished she was still holding on to him, but now she was covering her ears.

The beast stumbled forward, eyes the color of dry blood locked on Crell. “No!” He shouted as another of its kind crawled upon the vessel from behind them.

Crell could hear and breath clearly now. The water had knocked the growths free from his flesh, but he was still a goner. He could feel it in his bones.

“Rosie,” He whispered her name and clutched her hand, uncertain of why she was pulling away from him. Yes, he knew he was a dead man, but they didn’t want her. She could have at least been a momentary comfort until he was pulled below and torn apart.

But she would not stay put. Instead she shoved him away from her with such force that the creatures that hunted him cried out again lunging in his direction until stopping with a quickness that Crell could not read. It was as if they were hypnotized.

They were.

“Is this what you want?” Rosie held one of the bloody growths in her hands with several of the others to her chest. The beast from behind her hissed and caused her to stumble forward, but she did not drop her bait. “Crell, crank the engine…” She whispered as she eased forward towards the front of the vessel. The others of the crew had moved out of harms way. The creatures followed Rosie.

More cries from the predators echoed around them as the scent of blood and growths teased their drawn nostrils. An entire pack was on its way. The two on the vessel began to look at Crell again. He tried to crank faster but he was so weak. One of the creatures began to snarl and ease in his direction again, primed to pounce.

“No!” Rosie shouted, hurling one of the larger growths at the creature’s face. Before it could make its deadly move it was knocked from the vessel by the blunt force of its companion seeking after the growth that Rosie had hurled.

“Don’t stop! Crank faster!” The scrapping sound that had all but ceased was beginning to rise again. As if baiting wild hounds, Rosie tossed what was left of the growths as far away from the vessel as she could.

More pollen began to fill the air with the creature’s violent moves towards their reward, but the vessel was close, so close to North End. They were going to make it, blooms and pollen be darned! “Hold on, Crell!”

“Rosie! No!” Crell managed to push out from his belly.

Taking hold of the wheel, Rosie sent the vessel hurling forward with as much intent as she had the growths when she tossed them overboard. Wind whipped up behind them in a smokey blue trail of pollen before the vessel  groaned from an unexpected impact as its underbelly hit against a rock face that was well hidden beneath the growth of blooms.

Everyone on board shot forward in wild arcs in the air, splashing like cannon balls into the depths of North Sea.

*   *   *

Crell couldn’t help but sip up the salted water, dunking his head beneath for good measure. They were only a mile or so from North End now and he could manage the threat of dehydration. After what he had just experienced he was certain he could manage anything, even the violent slap of Rosie’s hand that had just landed against his back.

He turned to her as the burn of his slapped flesh radiated against the coolness of the salt water.

“We did it!” Rosie beamed. “We made it to North End. Well, we did, your vessel not so much.”

Crell scowled deeply at her before forcing her lips into his with such dominance that he was certain he felt her sinking. The crazy woman had cost him his vessel but she had saved his life and knocked him senseless in the process. “Yeah, we made it.” He said, pulling her back upward, smiling at her lips still locked in a heady pucker. “We did indeed.”


I hope you liked this bizarre story and found the “Ending” to be satisfying. As with all of the stories like this, there is somewhat of a tug to write more, as if what has been produced is only a snippet of a larger body of work, and perhaps this is. Only time will tell in the end.


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