Cyn Taylor

Photo by The Creative Exchange on Unsplash

Oh, Mood Ring,

does my psyche truly comply with your glow?

Am I pretty in pink and yappy in yellow?

Do I panic on purple, in white dream of snow?

Will blue make me blurry, or with orange turn mellow?

How easy would life be if you’d undergo

a CAT Scan.



Photo by Fernando Aguilar on Unsplash

“The waning sunset spoke fire to the surrounding clouds, dribbling varying shades of magenta, gold, and purple along the mountain peaks as the sun continued its nocturnal descent.”

“Okay. That’s truly terrible.” Jenna commented from across the room. “Aren’t authors supposed to write what they know?”

“Yeah.” Audrey agreed. “But when petting your cat is the most exciting event in your day, it’s hard to find a stimulating parable. The life I’ve experienced, nobody wants to read about.”

Jenna strode to the kitchen, returning with a huge butcher knife clutched in her hand. “Allow me to help you remedy that.”



Photo by Diomari Madulara on Unsplash

For $1,000 the vending machine would grant me the perfect words to begin my novel. For $5,000, the center of the story. For another $10,000, I could buy enough words so that a great ending would flow into my head.

Without hesitation, I inserted the cash. It took every cent I had. I wouldn’t eat for days, but it would be worth it.

Once the money had disappeared from view, the machine spoke to me for the first time.

“Within one minute please insert any coin to purchase the uplink-connect to your brain in order to receive the words.”