Tag Archives: quote

Haiku Friday – Singe & Deep

5 Jan

Happy Friday, everyone! I hope you are all keeping warm. The temperature in S. Florida is 55º F and it’s midday and the sun is blazing! 😮  To us, Floridians that’s like -10º F, anywhere else. Ironically, today’s prompt words from Ronovan Writes are Singe and Deep. Just reading the word singe warms me a little, but it also gives me an eerie feeling. With that being said, here’s my contribution for this week’s prompt challenge.

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“The house is on fire, and it isn’t my fault.” Emily crossed her thin arms as she stared at the burning house. She stood wide-eyed with red lips pursed.

The young female police officer in charged of her, observed her for a while. “Are you okay? I know this is a terrible experience for a ten year old girl to go through.”

The little girl didn’t look her way. She blinked a long blink and gave her a one shoulder shrug. Then she nodded her head ‘yes’, but said, “No, I don’t think so.”

The policewoman tilted her head and furrowed her brow. “I’m sorry, I know it’s got to be so hard for you. You can rest assured that the fireman are doing everything in their power to rescue your mother from the fire.”

Emily pressed her lips together, narrowed her deep-set chocolate brown eyes and then gazed at her like a puppy dog. “I left my scrunchy and my favorite teddy bear in the house. Do you think they’re burning right now?”

The policewoman stared at her and narrowed her eyes. She rubbed the nape of her neck and squatted down to be at eye level with the girl. She took Emily by the shoulders and turned her, so that they faced each other. “I think you should come with me. I can take you to the hospital where you can be properly looked after. You shouldn’t be here.”

Emily frowned and wrested her shoulders from her. She turned away and continued to stare at the house engulfed in flames. “Once I had a pet hamster. He accidentally walked into our fireplace. He made the strangest sounds as he burned––it was a he and his name was Agamemnon. Do you know how long it took me to learn that name? I was only six then, but that’s the name my mother wanted to give him. She couldn’t even let me name my own pet.” She grumbled the last sentence. “I would have named him, Apple, because he was round and had red hair like mine.” Her alabaster skin flushed making her freckles appear darker. She lowered her eyebrows and squinted her eyes. “Agamemnon died quickly and stunk up the whole house!” She turned to look at the officer. “Do you think my mom will stink like that, as she burns?”

The woman jumped to a stand and looked at the girl with a shocked expression.

Emily turned her sight to the burning house again. “I’m sure it will take much longer for my mother to die, because she’s bigger. She may stink up the whole block.” She crinkled her pixie-like nose.

“Come with me.” The officer took her by the hand and pulled her toward her squad car.

“No!” Emily screamed. “I want to stay here! I want to see.” She wore a hostile facial expression. She pulled her hand from the woman’s hand and took a few steps closer to the house. Her small chest heaved with every breath. She raised her chin and shoved her hands in the front pockets of her jeans.

The policewoman’s eyebrows bumped together in a worried scowl. She minced her way up to her and stood silently by her side. Her eyes were fixed on the girl and squinted in a furtive manner.

A fireman covered in soot and coughing approached the police officer. He took off his fireman hat and ran his hands through his hair. His face was black with residue from the intense fire, but his agonized expression was clearly seen. He gave Emily a grim look before turning to the officer again. He shook his head. “We did everything we could, but we couldn’t save her.” He lowered his voice some more and moved closer to the policewoman. “The fire got to her before the smoke. She burned to death. It was a gruesome sight.” He turned to Emily who was staring in their direction. “I’m sorry, kid.” He gestured goodbye to the officer and hurried away.

The policewoman wrapped her arms around her body. Her breaths were shallow and rapid. “I’m so sorry, Emily. The firemen did everything they could, but––”

“I know!” Emily interrupted her. “I heard everything the fireman said, even when he whispered.”

The police officer stared at the little girl with eyes glistening with pity, but her expression quickly turned to shock.

A grin spread slowly across Emily’s face, moving all her freckles.

After the first death

there is no other, you see.

Fire is complete


“Too many logs can squelch a fire. Flames need room to breathe.”

~Vashti Q


Singe and Deep are this week’s prompt words chosen by Ronovan Hester of Ronovan Writes.

Ron hosts a challenge that anyone could participate in called Ronovan Writes Weekly Haiku Poetry Prompt Challenge every Monday, and you have until Sunday to create a post featuring your haiku poem. He is an author and poet and also does author interviews and much more on his blog. Be sure to check it out. Read Ron’s Haiku Prompt Challenge Guidelines for more information.

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Enjoy your day and stay warm!

Writers Quote Wednesday – Fall From Desire

23 Mar

Hello everyone and welcome. It’s Writers Quote Wednesday. Today’s quote reminded me of a short story I had written a while ago, so I revised my story and decided to post it along with the quote. I hope you enjoy.

vampire_quote_writers quote wednesday_The Writer Next Door

Fall From Desire

By Vashti Q-Vega

For my transgressions, I was cast out of Heaven and exiled to planet Earth.

My fall was brutal as my six large white wings caught fire entering the Earth’s atmosphere. I cringed, cried and screamed as the flames consumed feathers and flesh. I looped and spiraled in the air, all the while stirring and reaching toward the flames, but there was no relief from the oppressive pain or the stench of roasted flesh. The fire was quenched when only the burnt bones of my wings remained. I wailed writhing in the air as the bony frames were yanked from my skeleton by a powerful force. This is what the male angels I led astray with my insatiable carnal appetite experienced as they fell from grace. I deserve worse for corrupting so many.


I splashed into a swamp.


The only light source was the brilliance of a full moon.


The swamp was dominated by woody plants and teeming with animal life. The water seemed to push down on me from all sides. I floundered and flailed my arms and legs, which only made me sink faster. I sank further and further into the swamp and away from the light of the moon. Soon, I was shrouded in darkness. My lungs burned for air. In horror, I screamed and warm, murky water filled my lungs. I shook and convulsed as alligators, snakes and all manner of swamp creatures witnessed the water take me away.


I opened my eyes. I was floating over the water. I survived? I was not sure how long I was unconscious, only that it was a different night—for the moon was no longer full. I trembled in fear and remained still, allowing the current to carry me wherever it may. As I came near the bank of the swamp, I took hold of a cypress’s knee, clambered to my feet and waded out of the water. I teetered and faltered, inexperienced in walking without wings. I am no longer an angel. The realization pierced my heart. What am I now? I broke the rules of celibacy in Heaven and tempted so many to do the same with my female ways. My lustful desires and sexual appetite were my ruin. Now I am alone, never to feel the pleasure of a caress.


My wide eyes flickered in every direction, trying to find a way out of the desolate and wild place. The potent, musky smell of decomposing vegetation and animal matter wafted into my nose, making me grimace with revulsion. There were no such smells in Heaven. Oh, how far I have gone from Heaven’s joyful fragrances!


I staggered in circles, my feet sinking into the spongy, wet ground. The moisture was so dense in this habitat that everything was wet. A film of moisture covered my naked body. Water soaked my long, blonde hair and pulled my curls flat. I heard the hooting of an owl. I turned toward a nearby tree and there it was, lurking in the shadows. Its large glowing eyes stared at me. Snakes slithered around my feet. Alligators remained immersed as they peered at me with their strange eyes peeking over the surface of the water. Where am I? There are only wetlands as far as I can see. How am I to survive here? I was not sure I wanted to live––not here. My body trembled, and desperate tears meandered over my cheeks and mingled with the moisture on my face. No one can hear me cry. I walked for miles. There were many sunrises and many moonrises, yet I remained alone in a world of swamps.


Swarms of mosquitos tormented me with their stinging and their buzzing in my ears. I had to deter countless attacks from snakes and alligators. I was covered in welts, bumps, scratches, bites and bruises from such attacks. My body itched, ached and throbbed. I deserve no less for sating my erotic desires without a second thought for the countless archangels, seraphim and cherubim I debauched with my impious, enticing and lustful ways.


I continued to wander the soggy swampland and began to feel an unfamiliar burning sensation in my middle. My strength was depleting, and I dragged my feet and panted. Feeling faint, I collapsed. I lay on the water-saturated ground and looked up at the heavens. What is happening to me? What have I become? I lay frozen for hours, feeling so alone, waving off a plethora of insects trying to invade my body. I would rather draw my last breath than spend the rest of my days alone in this sodden nightmare.


“What are you?” A masculine voice asked.


I jolted upright in a seated position and stared at a magnificent creature. “I––I do not know what I am. I have only knowledge of what I used to be.”


“Very well, then what were you?” He squinted his eyes and his eyebrows came together as he stared.


“I was once called Rachiel . . . when I was an angel in Heaven.”


He looked at me sideways. “You do not look like an angel to me.”


“Have you ever seen an angel?”


“Yes, as a matter of fact, I have, and angels have wings.”


“I, too, had wings. Large white wings—six of them,” I said, my voice quavering. “They were torn from me as I fell through the skies.”


He scrutinized me for a while with his piercing violet-blue eyes. “I believe you. I am not sure why, but I do. Perhaps something in your verdant eyes tells me you do not know how to lie.” His wide smile was stunning. “My name is Mendrion.” He was tall. His hair long, thick, the color of nightfall. Lengthy, heavy eyelashes framed his violet-blue eyes. His skin was like an ivory mist. He looked like divine pleasure. Enough, Rachiel! This is why you were cast out of Heaven! I shuddered and got out of my own head.


I gawked at his muscular body while he stared at my face and came closer. He searched for some of my hair that was not soiled, grabbed some and sniffed. He proceeded to nuzzle his nose against my neck, my shoulder, the top of my breasts. I closed my eyes. He breathed me in, taking in my essence. He looked up. I opened my eyes, and he stared into them. Then he walked around me, slowly, as he evaluated every inch of my bare body. He parted the long hair that fell down my back and saw the jagged stubs from where my wings used to stem. He passed his hands over them with a gentle touch, and then I felt him bring his face closer to smell the stumps. He came around to face me again.


“Are you in pain?” He did not look concerned but more curious.


“Since I have arrived on this planet, I have felt only pain, fear and sorrow.” I looked toward the ground.


“I can rid you of these malignancies.”




“You need only say yes.”


I gazed at him. What am I to do? I am in much pain and I grow weaker with the passing of time. I shall not survive much longer without help. I bit my lip. I was unable to think with clarity.


“You do not trust me and I understand, for I have given you no reason to trust in me.” His voice was soothing.


“You are an elegant creature, but I do not know your mind.”


He grinned and lifted his muscular chest. He swaggered toward me and extended his arm. He passed his hand through my hair and caressed my face. Desire for him grew quickly inside me like a vine strangling all other emotions. Every fiber of my being was ignited. My chest heaved in rhythm with my shallow panting. It is happening again. I am overwhelmed with lustful desires.


“You, too, are beautiful to look upon,” he said. “But if you wish to rid yourself of pain and fear you must become what I am.”


“What are you?”


“I am vampire.”


I jolted and gasped. In Heaven, I had heard stories of such creatures from the Observers––angels whose task was to observe the beings on Earth. Vampires are the spawn of Dracul, the infamous son of Lilith and Satan. I recoiled from him.


“You know of my kind?” He came closer.


“I do.” My lips quivered.


“You need not fear me. I mean you no harm. I only seek what you seek.”


“What do you think I desire?”


“Companionship.” He extended his hand. “Come with me and never be alone again.”


I stared at his welcoming hand for a while.


“I shall offer this only once.” His piercing eyes were fixed on me. I reached my trembling hand to meet his and he pulled me toward him.


He held me tightly and pressed his full moist lips against mine. After the kiss I became lightheaded. Through eyes half opened, I watched as he opened his mouth exposing large canine teeth growing into fangs. I gasped, but before I could move, he sank his fangs into the flesh at the base of my neck. A combination of his saliva and my blood streamed down my neck. I cocked my head back and moaned, my eyes rolling back in their sockets. Both pleasure and pain moved through me. My body tensed. My entire being was at peak response. As he drew my blood greedily, I felt my body meld into his. A delightful pressure began to build inside me. I gasped and groaned with pleasure. The pressure continued to build until I thought I would explode. My body went into spasms of incredible delight, and my mind was flooded with a variety of pleasurable sensations. Then I felt a wave of dizziness, my body slackened, and darkness began to close in on me.


Upon opening my eyes, I saw the world differently. The colors of cypress trees became more vivid, and plants were verdant jewels. I almost felt the fragrances of nature. The alligators’ bellows and the hissing of snakes became mellifluous. I lay on the ground, and Mendrion sat next to me. He smiled, and I returned his smile. He kissed me on the lips, neck, shoulders and breasts. His hands caressed my body, and his touch was heavenly. As a vampire, my body was made for pleasure. I sensed so much more and every nerve ending in my body was excited. Every touch sent waves of pleasure throughout my body. I need not food, nor water—I may well live on his touch alone. I was in ecstasy, but then he stopped. He got to his feet.


“No, do not stop. I implore you.” I gazed into his eyes feeling affection for him and wholly devoted. “I love your hands and lips on my body.”


He extended his hand like he had done before. “Take my hand, Rachiel.” I beamed when he mentioned my name. “I shall allow you to keep your original name, for it pleases me. Now go and join the others.” His words filled me with confusion.


He pointed to the swamp.


I turned my face and gasped. My eyes opened wide with disbelief. There were other fallen angels like me in the swamp. They were all converted into vampires—no doubt in the same way as I was. There was not a happy face among them.


“Go on,” said Mendrion. “Take your place among them. You are now a swamp vampire. You shall feed on the blood of alligators, snakes, beavers, frogs and other swamp creatures.”


“I shall not!” I screamed. I clenched my jaw and held back tears. “You deceived me.”


“I told you only the truth. You no longer feel pain, am I right?” He waited for my response wearing a wry grin. “If you do not feed on the blood of these swamp creatures, you shall die a slow and agonizing death.”


“I shall go away!” I turned my head this way and that, my eyes flickering in every direction.


“You have nowhere to go. You belong to me now and there is no escape, for your blood calls out to me and I shall find you wherever you go. Besides, you can no longer live without my touch.” He was right—losing his caressing is what I feared most. “Join the others now, or you shall never feel the gratification of my touch.”


Upon hearing his final words my face slackened. I shuffled through the bog and entered the dark, gloomy water. I stood amongst the others, merely another beauty in the murky swamp. The others glared at me––another to whom they must share him with. We were all doomed to the same punishment. Our bodies made for pleasure and overwhelmed with desire, condemned to long for the touch of the same master.

Copyright © 2014 by Vashti Quiroz-Vega. All rights reserved.

Fall from Desire-Vashti Quiroz-Vega's Blog-Victoria Frances

Illustration by Victoria Frances


Colleen Chesebro is a writer, poet, and book reviewer. She hosts an inspiring event every Wednesday on her blog, Silver Threading, called Writer’s Quote Wednesday. Anyone can participate by choosing a quote by a favorite writer and posting it on your blog.


Writer’s Quote Wednesday

24 Jun

Hello everyone! Every Wednesday I participate in an event sponsored by Colleen Chesebro called Writer’s Quote Wednesday. I choose a quote that I like and relate to, and feature it on my blog. If you’d like to participate, visit Colleen’s blog, Silver Threading. She also does a weekly wrap-up of all the participants’ quotes every Tuesday.

Several people that have read my first book, The Basement, and then read my short stories and The Fall of Lilith, have mentioned to me of the difference between my first book and my written work afterward. Well, aside from gaining knowledge and experience after writing my first book, I also consider that my first book was something I was compelled to write, whereas my later works were written from pure inspiration and fun. I felt I had a message to deliver when I wrote The Basement, and I chose to convey it to children.

If you’re curious about my first book, The Basement, you can read about it here and here

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The Basement- Twitter- Card

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Is there a piece of writing that you felt compelled to write? A book, short story, blog post, article that you felt you had to share? If so, tell me what and why you were compelled to write it. Share the link to your work in the comment section below.

Writer’s Quote Wednesday

17 Jun

Hello everyone! Welcome to Writer’s Quote Wednesday hosted by Colleen Chesebro from Silver Threading. Please visit her fabulous blog and check out her interesting posts.

Game of Thrones

“There are three rules for writing a novel.

Unfortunately no one knows what they are.”

~W. Somerset Maugham

Game of Thrones_George R. R. Martin


If you’re a fan of the HBO series Game of Thrones then you may also be a fan of the author whose books the series is based on, George R. R. Martin. Whenever I talk about the rules of writing I tend to think of several popular writers, George R. R. Martin being prominent in my mind. He’s broken so many ‘rules’ I’ve lost count. But yet, he is genius in the choosing of which rules to break, and his timing is impeccable. His writing is unique and fascinating because he takes many risks. The HBO series is as captivating as his books because he is also one of the  screenwriters of the show.

What makes your writing different from that of other writers? Do you take risks when it comes to your writing?

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Writer’s Quote Wednesday

27 May

Welcome to my blog! I love visitors. Today is Writer’s Quote Wednesday hosted by Colleen from Silver Threading.

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I’m a bit of a ‘writing rebel’, so it was no wonder this quote got my attention. There are so many rules in writing nowadays that I wouldn’t be surprised if a group of bitter, disgruntled librarians made up half of them. Just kidding. In all seriousness though, writers need to master all the rules of writing, so that we can then break some of them.

Vashti Quiroz-Vega's Blog_writing quote

“If it sounds like writing, I rewrite it. Or, if proper usage gets in the way, it may have to go. I can’t allow what we learned in English composition to disrupt the sound and rhythm of the narrative.”
—Elmore Leonard

Librarian-Vashti Quiroz-Vega-blog

Are there some rules that have you seething out of your writerly mind? What writing rules do you find ridiculous? 

Fairy Tales Are More Than True

1 Apr


Hello! I’m participating this week in Colleen’s Writer’s Quote Wednesday I know she’s gone off on a magical journey (vacation) and will be back next week. Be sure to check out her blog, Silver Threading for fun and creative posts.

The quote I chose today is another of my favorites. I find it very inspiring. I’ve used this quote before or after The Basement book readings in schools and the kids love it too.



Fairytales are true


“Fairy Tales are more than true; not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten.”

~G.K. Chesterton

Gilbert Keith Chesterton is considered by some to be the best writer and thinker of the 20th century. He’s best known for his Father Brown (Priest/Detective) stories.

Do you read fairytales to your children? Even Albert Einstein had recommended that parents read fairytales to their children. What do you think about that?

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Kind Words

1 Feb

I fell in-love with these words . . . 


“Kind words are the music of the world.

They have a power which seems to be

beyond natural causes, as if they were

some angel’s song which had lost its way

and come to earth.”

~ Frederick William Faber


Tears by Laphet on deviantART


Has anyone ever spoken kind words to you that had such an impact that they changed your life, self image, or the way you think about a certain subject? 



Man Without A Name

24 Sep

Man Without A Name

A very warm welcome to my blog. I hope everyone is having a great week so far. Today I’m featuring the interesting, talented and mysterious poet: Kay Leez. I read her poem Man Without A Name on Google+ and it touched me deeply. Her words haunted me for days. I decided I had to share it.

In her words…

I write only as a means of self-expression – my inspirations coming from both personal and empathetic sources – with the hope that my words resonate and evoke emotions, or become the voice of those who are silent.

I am a Forensic Psychiatric Nurse going for my Masters degree in Psychiatric Nursing, and I also graduated with degrees in English and Biochemistry.

Kay Leez

Man Without A Name

A busy train station, Monday morning rush
Straphangers’ party, hot sweaty crush

I note with hesitation, the lone empty car
Excitement yet dread, I push the doors apart

Glorious sweet warmth, blast at my skin
But the fetid smell envelops me, soon as I step in

Oblivious to the world, asleep on the bench
Tattered and filthy, he exudes the stench

I grimace in disgust, pinching my nose
Swears on my lips, dusting my clothes

My mood turns blue, I take the furthest seat
Impatience begins to rise; I don’t try to be discrete

He’s wakened by the conductor, told he must leave
I sigh with gratitude, exhale with relief

He looks my way, I turn from embarrassment
I try to maintain distance, my look yet arrogant

But there’s something in his face, that catches my eye
The blank stare of defeat, as one ready to die

Don’t know what possesses me, but I follow him out the door
An inexplicable feeling, I don’t care to explore

His gait is unsteady, I am afraid he may fall
Instinctively from behind, I reach out then recall

He wanders along the platform, as though in a daze
From time to time he turns back, and catches my gaze

He probably wonders like I do, why I follow him
Words cannot explain; I am propelled by a whim

Suddenly he collapses, crumples to the ground
I rush forward and grab him; he falls without sound

I cradle him in my lap; he reaches for my face
Not sure what to expect, I stay my place

A gentle soft touch, for such a worn hand
Barely grazing my cheek; a move unplanned

The look in his eyes, brings me to tears
The look of wide wonder, that someone does care

The light of life gradually, begins to fade away
Fear surges over, as I start to pray

His body grows heavy; I hold him on my lap
A blank stare takes over; I know it’s not a nap

My heart is broken, by a stranger I just met
I hold him even closer, as he takes his last breath

Deep sobs rack my body, with disgrace and shame
How could I have been so heartless, to this man without a name?

by Kay Leez
Copyright © 2013 Kay Leez (Whispers). All Rights Reserved.

Read more of Kay Leez’ work here:

Homeless man


Vashti Quiroz-Vega's Blog

Homeless man-Vashti Quiroz-Vega

“I think we all have empathy. We may not have enough courage to display it.”

~Maya Angelou