Spirit. #poetry

(C) 2021, by Pamela Schloesser Canepa

A spirit will not grow old

Unless you let it.

The flame of Youth is always there

Don’t squash it

With doubts, distrust, experience, and every outcome you think you know.

Rekindle the spark, enthusiasm, innocence, expectation of good things….

Don’t turn away fron the sun because you know it’s going to set

Let the sunset calm you just as

A sunrise will break open your heart

With excitement and hope.

Let your spirit learn from the dark

But keep the innocence of hope,

So your spirit will not whither in darkness,

But expands to make room for all you know, feel, and desire.

If you don’t cast out either, Can wisdom and innocence co-exist in your soul?

I believe it.


Friday Fictioneers. Observations at the Theater. #amwriting


All writing © Pamela Schloesser Canepa

“You know, if aliens were studying us, they could learn a lot about us from our viewing habits,” Roma claimed.

Billy shrugged. “You’ve got some weird ideas. I’m just excited for the tenth installment of ‘Halloween!’

Roma stopped at the snack counter. “Let me get some popcorn to calm my nerves.”

Minutes later, they were claiming their seats. Roma cringed during every tension-filled moment. The audience screamed; Billy just laughed.

That is, until Billy noticed the strange man on the left of the theater staring at him. Every time he turned, the man stared. Billy cringed…Someone was watching.

-99 to 100 words in response to the photo prompt given for the Friday Fictioneers Challenge at http://rochellewisoff.com 

In the Nineties. #poetry

mosaic alien on wall
Photo by Francesco Ungaro on Pexels.com

(c) Pamela Schloesser, 2019

It was the nineties,

I was young, and you were bold,

I just wanted to be told

How beautiful I was.

My brother skated, my mother worried,

And I tried not to seem so smart.


It was the nineties;

I just wanted to be cool

and I wanted to be pretty.

I married someone

who was the life of the party.

We were all about

Chinese takeout

and a thirteen inch t.v.

Californians were cooler than us

Moulder and Scully were

more interesting than us.

We’d finish our X-files and takeout

and sit on the back porch

watching for our own aliens.


I’d retreat to some Stephen King

you’d escape somewhere partying

with people cooler than I.

You’d always return,

whether I liked it or not;

I was home base.

Whether you walked straight or not

if you howled at the moon or not,

whether you were seeing two or three,

I was still home base.


Starting a family didn’t help.

Threatening to leave didn’t help.

It was the nineties and we were

just who we were.

But I didn’t like you interpreting

my place anymore.


It was nineteen ninety eight

and time to get things straight.

Growing up is important.

We do what we must do,

and it was time to acknowledge

that I couldn’t grow with you.


It was the late nineties

and I’d dashed your world,

split up our family, taken your son.

I was many horrible things

all rolled up into one.

But I walked on that broken glass

with a toddler in my hands

to freedom on the other side.


It was the nineties,

and then it no longer was.

A new millenium,

The crossing of a threshold.

I was thirty, and wise

but not at all old.

I look back, glad Iit’s in the past.

But still, I learn when I look back.

**The nineties were an important part of me, and such a very interesting decade on their own.  This timeframe has shown up in my writing, particularly in the book, Detours in Time.  You can find out about this book and series at https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0711ZW6XF  Thank you for stopping by, and I do hope you will return to my blog.  I offer a little bit of everything here.  Cheers!


Of Mitz and Mayhem. #FFfAW #flashfiction

Photo credit (c) Yarnspinnerr

Mitz was feeling fresh with newly dyed-electric-blue spiked hair.  Her friends knew better than to call her Michelle.  She was a new person.  Off to cause mayhem in all four corners of the world, oblivious to the chill in the air.

“What’s this place, do ya’ know, Johnnie?”

Johnnie spit on the ground.  “Must be a home for royals,” he answered in his cockney accent.

“No entry?  Ha!” Mitz exclaimed.  “Let’s go get a lemonade over there and come back when it gets darker.”

“I’m ready!” Johnnie replied.

She tugged his arm.  Thirty minutes later, she was refreshed and Johnnie had espresso fuel rocketing through his veins.

They crouched near the first lampost. Mitz stifled a giggle.  She grasped Johnnie’s arm, but fell back on the slippery ground.

“Right on your bum, there you go,” a deep voice bellowed.

“Oh, sh–” Mitz spat, then noticed Johnnie running away.  “Traitor, you are!”

“Come on, up with you,” the constable grasped her arm, pushing her into the car.  Mitz realized the door wouldn’t unlock.

**174 words**

To join in the fun, visit Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers where a new photo prompt and writing challenge is presented weekly.  I love these things!  I think I have just introduced myself to a new character….



Do Not Pass. #amwriting #FridayFictioneers

PHOTO PROMPT © Björn Rudberg

The boys were now both eighteen, and they celebrated with a trip to the Canadian Rockies.

“We’ve got to go to Edmund’s Pass!” Roma exclaimed.  “A friend in the forum told me about it.”

Billy rolled his eyes.  The forums.  Still, he had agreed to go.  Until he saw the sign and the overgrown dirt road.

“Come on, Billy!  There’s been a UFO landing there.  Let’s see it for ourselves.”

“By foot?  Hmm.  Forums,”  Billy chuckled, shaking his head.

“You’re only young once,” Roma stated, his eyes lit up.

“Onward!’  Billy raised his arm fearlessly.

Roma beamed and moved forward.

*100 words

*Friday Fictioneers is a weekly photo prompt challenge to write a Flash fiction piece of 100 words or less with beginning, middle, and end.  It is hosted at https://rochellewisoff.com/  Visit this week’s challenge and view the other offerings at  Rochelle Wisoff !


Tomboy. #FFfAW #flashfiction


Photo (c) Enisa

Tomboy, by Pamela Schloesser Canepa.  (c) 2018

It was a good memory.  Until it wasn’t anymore.

The sun shone vividly and bounced off of the rocks and the shallow water.  I admired my next door neighbor, Rolan, so much.  He was a little older, but I was a tomboy.  I was like a younger brother.

Yeah, right.

That was the day I became a woman, and there was no hiding it from Rolan.  He seemed disgusted.

“Now we gotta go home!”

“I’m sorry,”  I said.

“You need to quit tryin’ to be something you’re not.  You don’t belong out here with me.  Go to the mall with the other girls.”

On the way back, the tears burned my dirt-streaked face.  I hated that.  I was acting like a girl.  Maybe he was right.  I didn’t belong there.

Needless to say, we were no longer friends.  So I started going to the creek with Henry.  I choose where I belong.

~Approx. 163 words


Visit Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers  for more information about this Flash fiction challenge!

Two Boys and a Boat. #amwriting #fridayfictioneers

Photo credit, Roger Bultot

(c) 2017 Pamela Schloesser Canepa

They had left while it was still dark, two sixteen-year-old boys taking off with Dad’s car AND his canoe.  It was their first boating excursion alone.

Reaching the water’s edge, Billy halted.  “The tide is too low.”

“You didn’t check the reports?”  Roma asked.

“No.”  Billy felt bad.

Roma, ever the adventurer,  said, “We’ll go through the brush to where the water’s deeper!”

Billy recalled being in there before, getting stung by bramble, and finding a dead bird.

“But….” He saw Roma’s hopeful face.  “Well, the road less traveled…”

“Yes!”  Roma smiled.

*100 words*

This was written as part of the Friday Fictioneers challenge hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields (more details HERE). The idea is to write a short story of 100 words based on the provided photo prompt.

To read stories of 100 words based on this week’s prompt, visit HERE.

“You Call this a Vacation?” #amwriting Friday Fictioneers


PHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bulltot


“This used to be a hospital?”  Roma asked, pictures flashing through his head.

“Yes, in fact…” the guide continued.

“Big deal,”  Billy grunted.  He should’ve known better than to come all the way here with Roma and his hippy mother and foreign dad, from, where was it again?  To stay in a room with no cable t.v., no pool, no cell service…

“I love History!”  Roma jogged over to a tour guide in costume.

“Let me tell you the horrors of this inner chamber!” The man said, ghoulishly.

An hour later, Billy emerged from the building a converted History buff.

~100 words~


**Friday Fictioneers is hosted by Rochelle at https://rochellewisoff.com/ and restarts every Friday with a new photo prompt.  Flash fiction stories are to be 100 words or less, with a beginning, middle, and an end.  Proper credit must be given to the owner of the photo.  Add your own by clicking the Inlinks button at the Sept. 1 post at rochellewisoff.com.  Thanks for visiting my blog!

The White Rabbit Hates Donuts! Stupid #&$t I did When I Was Young, pt 2



Photo courtesy of Bing, Creative Commons.  This poor guy looks a little anxious. 😦  Okay, no animals were harmed in today’s story.  In fact, the white rabbit was not an animal, but a car.  It was the first car I was allowed to drive on my own.  Yes, I know, it sounds very Alice in Wonderland-ish, and maybe that’s actually fitting.  Too bad I don’t have a picture of that car.  The white rabbit, however, did not like donuts at all, and rebelled in kind.  Read on for the story of a lesson I learned the hard way at age 17, in my second Monday installment of “Stupid %&$t I Did When I Was Young.”

It was 1985.  Billy Idol played on my radio and in my cassette player almost non-stop.  I had a job.  That was great, even though it was in a fast food restaurant.  Even though I sometimes worked pretty late on weekend nights.  I had a car that could get me there, since Mom had just bought a newer car for herself.  The white rabbit was a Volkswagen Rabbit, and I know it had potential.  I just didn’t know what to do with it.

His name was *Jaxx.   (Or maybe it wasn’t. :))  He was different.  Outspoken, unafraid, with long hair and tall as an oak tree, no lie.  I was different, too.  Quiet.  Somber, would sit in a corner alone if I didn’t know anyone, and half the time, I’d have my head down too unless I was in a class with some of my friends.  Honest,  I didn’t die my hair black, though many probably expected me to.  This was 11th grade, and I had some interesting friends, quite an assortment.  One of them was really into getting into every rock concert or going to see every new band she could.  I went with her many times.  Through her, I met Jaxx.  He didn’t have a car; I did.  But what he did have, was a fake i.d.  Imagine what a valuable piece of plastic that was to us!  I would gladly drive him places.  Well, some of my other friends wanted to go, and they’d bring boyfriends.  Inevitably, I let him drive my car because I’d get, you know, too tired to drive.  Sometimes they’d meet me up at the *Jack in the Box (Name changed to protect the innocent restaurant chain) and get something through the drive-through, then wait in the parking lot until I got off.  I don’t think I got much sleep back then.

We’d go off to the drive-in movies or out driving.  When I let Jaxx drive, he usually drove like a crazy man.  Hey, it was a five speed!  One night, a bunch of them wanted to try and do donuts, round repeated spins at high speed, in the car.  I think it was just my car, well, someone had a Pinto, maybe it was subjected to donuts, too.  I don’t know; it gets hazy.  So, yeah, they were doing that and I was just laughing with everyone else, in a lackadaisical, anything goes spirit.  Why worry?  Why question it?  Who does that when they’re 17 and having fun anyhow?  Oh, I sure needed to learn a lesson.

We were out so late this one night, I just knew I’d be in serious trouble.  Jaxx said, “Man, I stay in trouble.  I’d just like to run off.”

And I said something like, “Yeah.  I should do that.  I’m tired of my mom’s strict rules.  I’m tired of school.”

Well, everyone else had to go home to avoid grounding, I guess, but he and I didn’t want to go home.  We decided we would just run off.  Now, I’m sure my car sounded bad, but for some reason I don’t remember specifics.  However, it got us to an IHOP on the other side of town, Westside, I think.

We sat there eating something cheap, and I was drinking coffee, thinking what am I doing here.  Looking at the night shift waitress thinking, will I need a job like that to feed myself?  What were we thinking?  Are Jaxx and I gonna live together?  Could we even stand each other?  Mind you, we weren’t actually dating and he’d never kissed me.  He had a fake i.d.and devil may care attitude.  I had a car, and an easy-going attitude.  Meaning, I didn’t really look out for myself.  I had to learn that lesson the hard way.

I looked at him, and he looked at me, and one of us, I’m not sure who, said, “This was not a good idea.”  What a relief.

“Yeah, I guess I’ll have to face grounding.  I’m tired,”  I said.

“You look tired,”  he agreed.  Actually, I think he said something much meaner.  See what I mean?  All this guy had going for him was a fake i.d.  So glad I came to my senses.

Of course, I got grounded.  Of course, something was wrong with the car.  It got me home, but it didn’t start the next day.  I asked one of my friends who had been there to tell me what happened to it.  She told me, “Jeff says Jaxx knocked the engine off the engine block.”  Great.  If I would’ve just told him to get out of my car, if I would have just taken care of my car, what a frustration.  I hadn’t.  I didn’t look out for myself, either.

I don’t know if Jaxx had already been a dropout, or if it happened soon after, or if I just didn’t have the guts to tell him he caused that damage to the car and owed me for repairs. Summer was just a month or two away, anyhow. The car sat in our driveway for months until Mom got someone to buy it for dirt cheap.  That was part of my punishment, losing the car.  I knew I deserved it.  She had been rife with worry that whole night that I was out until 4 or 5 a.m.  I can sympathize with her now, looking back.

I got rides to work, rides home, waited around so Mom could drop me off before work.  I worked, and save $700 for some kind of used Plymouth that did its own donuts on the side of the road when it was rainy out.  Guess I’m lucky I lived.  That car liked donuts. :p We won’t go too far into how I felt, sitting at the side of the road, heart racing.  God, it was a close call.  Considering it once happened on a highway, I must have had someone looking out for me.

It seems like I straightened up in Senior year, realizing my love for Literature, and that I could actually go to college, just had to choose carefully which classes I chose to sleep in.  I kept working, got a better part-time job, still driving that rusty Plymouth, but I was able to get some work done on it.  It became less dangerous to me, thank God!  My outlook on life was a lot lighter, brighter.  Maybe I was more determined.  My dad was going to pay my first two years of tuition if I paid for books.  So, I did go on to get my college degree, working and paying for the rest of it myself.  After all, you learn a lot more when you pay for what you get.  A tough lesson, an education.  And don’t subject the white rabbit to donuts, or so-called friends who insist on donuts!

*Some names have been changed to avoid dredging up the past.  Well, it is prominent in my memory right now, it being summer time, but I would like to have certain people remain just that, a memory. 🙂

Stupid #&$t I Did When I Was Young…


Image courtesy of digitalart at freedigitalphotos.net

Go ahead, feel free to laugh with me.  I’m laughing, when my knee’s not aching.  Having lived as long as I have, I’ve got some good stories to tell.  This one’s about the time I caught a t.v. on my knee.  I’ve been working hard this summer on self-promotion as a self-published author, and on upcoming writing projects.  It feels like I’ve neglected my blog a little.  So, I’ve decided to add a regular Monday post for at least the next few weeks of the summer, all about various stupid things I did when I was young.  You’ll laugh, you’ll think, “Wow, I can’t believe she did that,”  you’ll cry….well, probably not.  This should be fairly light and fun, as I am poking fun at myself.  So, sit back and enjoy.

How heavy is a 27″ t.v.?  Too heavy for me to catch in my own two arms.  Especially the kind they made in the 1990s.  I know, because I’ve tried. It was in my early twenties, when I was working at a department store (whose name I won’t mention) selling t.v.s. A sales rep came in demonstrating his brand of TV.  It was in a tall console.  Well, he did something that made it start to slide forward, and I was right in front of it, while he was on the back end.  Instinctively, I put out my arms to keep it from crashing to the floor, glass shattering everywhere. When I realized that wouldn’t work, I got down on one knee, still holding up my arms. It was slowly sliding down, my arms had slowed it, but it landed on my knee, and two of my male co-workers were there to grab it at that point.

One of them said, “Pam’s the hero of the day!  I can’t believe you did that!”

Another said, “I would’ve just let it fall.  How’s your knee?”

I was in shock.  I couldn’t believe that had just happened, either.  Yeah, my knee was a little sore.  I think I did my best to catch it, worrying that letting it fall would result in glass from monitor hitting me in the face.  I don’t know.  I should’ve just run the other way.  Because, to this day, my knee sometimes really aches, especially if I wear pretty shoes or high heels, and if the weather is damp.  It’s not inevitable that it should ache, it was all from something stupid I did.

I normally, in social groups, sell this story as, “I have a bad knee because I once caught a t.v. on it.”  And people look at me strangely, with sudden interest.  Well, it’s true, I did.


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