#dailyprompt-2109 — Public Fediverse posts

A twin to The Days of the Dreams.

The black fog slid across the terracotta floor of the tea shop like a living river of ice. Every glass jar on Moira’s shelves began to frost over, the dried herbs inside freezing white. The warm, comforting smell of chamomile and old paper was completely swallowed by the bitter scent of deep winter and ancient dust.

Toe, the black cat, stood on the very edge of the oak counter. He hissed, a sharp, angry sound, while Ashwaganda stood tall beside him, his orange fur puffed out like a shield.

“Stay behind me, Elio,” Moira whispered. Her breath was a thick white cloud in the freezing air.

Elio walked slowly out of the back kitchen. He was holding the heavy wooden bowl with both hands. The ossobuco and the fresh, golden pasta were steaming perfectly, radiating a deep, rich heat. The smell of the roasted meat, the sweet tomatoes, and the old wine fought against the cold fog, creating a wall of warm air around the chef.

“Where do I put it?” Elio asked, his teeth chattering from the sudden, unnatural cold.

“On the counter. Right between the two books,” Moira ordered.

Elio stepped forward. The shadows on the walls seemed to reach for him, long black fingers stretching out to grab the bowl. But the heat of the traditional food pushed them back. Elio placed the wooden bowl carefully onto the heavy oak wood, right between the dusty blue cover of The Days of the Dreams and the pristine white cover of its newly found twin.

The moment the bowl touched the wood, the black fog stopped moving along the floor.

Slowly, the fog began to rise. It gathered in the center of the room, pulling itself up into a tall, towering pillar of pure darkness. It had no face and no eyes, but Moira and Elio could feel it looking at them. It felt like a bottomless, starving void—an emptiness that had not been warm in a thousand years.

Elio took a step back, terrified.

Moira did not move. She stood tall, placed one hand on her blue book, and looked directly into the dark shadow.

“We offer you the memory of the hearth,” Moira said in a loud, clear voice. She remembered the words of the riddle. “We bring you the marrow of the bone, slow-cooked in the tears of the hills. We bind it with the golden sheet, stretched only by human hands.”

The towering shadow let out a sound. It was not a voice, but a low, hollow wind that rattled the teacups on their shelves.

The dark shape leaned forward, hovering directly over the steaming wooden bowl.

Elio grabbed Moira’s arm, ready to pull her away. But Moira shook her head. “Watch,” she whispered.

The shadow did not eat the food like a person or an animal would. Instead, it opened wide and breathed in. The thick, rich steam rising from the hot pasta and the roasted marrow was pulled straight up into the darkness.

As the shadow swallowed the heat, the smell, and the soul of the carefully cooked meal, something amazing happened. The pure black fog began to turn gray. The terrible, freezing cold in the room began to soften.

The shadow breathed in again, drinking the human effort, the patience, and the tradition that Elio had rolled into the pasta dough. The darkness turned lighter and lighter, until it looked like ordinary morning mist.

With one final, quiet sigh that sounded almost peaceful, the mist evaporated completely into the air.

The desk lamp flickered and turned back on. The frost on the glass jars melted into tiny drops of water. The fire in the back room roared back to life, filling the tea shop with warmth once again.

Ashwaganda stopped puffing his fur and let out a long, happy purr. Toe jumped down from the counter and started to wash his paws.

Elio slowly walked up to the oak counter and looked into the wooden bowl.

The ossobuco and the pasta were still there. But they had completely changed. The rich red tomato sauce was totally gray. The golden yellow of the egg pasta was dull and white. The meat looked dry as dust. There was no steam, no smell, and no heat.

“It took the life out of it,” Elio whispered, staring at the bowl in shock. “It ate the essence of the food.”

“It ate the memory,” Moira corrected gently. She closed the covers of both the blue and white books. “It was starving for warmth. You gave it a meal made with care, patience, and human hands. A machine could never have made a meal that could defeat a shadow, Elio.”

Elio looked at his flour-covered hands. He had always cooked for awards, for speed, and for modern perfection. But tonight, he had cooked to save a village.

“I understand now,” the chef said softly. He looked at Moira with true respect. “Tradition is not just about the past. It is about keeping the warmth alive for the future.”

Moira smiled. She took the wooden bowl of gray, empty food and tossed it into the trash bin.

“Now,” Moira said, tying her apron back on. “Since the shadow ate your dinner, how about we go into the kitchen and make another batch of that hand-rolled pasta? Just for us this time.”

Elio smiled back, his fear finally gone. “Only if you let me show you how to chop the wild mallow for the salad.”

Superstitious? Me? Pfft… Unless the Universe is Listening.

Are you superstitious?

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Am I Superstitious? Let’s Just Say… It’s Complicated.

This morning, my son and his buddies threw out a dangerous question: “Are you superstitious?”

Now, logically, I want to say no. I don’t walk around tossing salt over my shoulder or fearing black cats. But if we’re being honest… I also refuse to say things like “Wow, nothing has gone wrong today!” because I know the universe is listening.

So, am I superstitious? Let’s just say I respect the possibility of unseen forces—but I’m also not afraid to test them.

Let’s break it down.

1. The ‘Don’t Jinx It’ Rule (AKA, I’m Not Stupid)

You ever confidently say something, only for life to immediately slap you in the face?

🔹 Example: “Ugh, I never get sick.” Boom—suddenly, I’m drowning in tissues and self-pity.
🔹 Pain Level: 9/10. Because why does the universe have to be so petty?

✅ How I Handle It: I knock on wood. Every time. Even if it’s fake. Even if people are watching. If I forget? You best believe I’m mentally whispering “no jinx, no jinx, no jinx” to undo the damage.

2. The ‘Something Feels Off’ Rule (My Sixth Sense is Real)

I don’t know if it’s energy, instinct, or just years of experience with people being sketchy, but if something feels wrong, I listen.

🔹 Example: Walking into a place and feeling an immediate, unexplainable sense of nope.
🔹 Pain Level: 10/10 if ignored. Because the ONE TIME I brushed it off, I ended up in a situation I never should have been in.

✅ How I Handle It: If my gut tells me to leave, I leave. No debating, no justifying. The last thing I need is to become the main character in a bad horror movie.

3. The ‘Ghosts? Prove Me Wrong’ Rule (I’m Ready for This Fight)

Unlike most people, I don’t fear ghosts, Ouija boards, or haunted places—I’m fascinated by them. Do I believe in spirits and the paranormal? Not really.

But am I willing to test it? Hell yes.

🔹 Example: While some people refuse to step foot in a haunted house, I’m the one saying, “Alright, if something’s here, show yourself.”
🔹 Pain Level: TBD. But honestly, if a ghost did prove me wrong, I’d be more excited than scared.

✅ How I Handle It: If the supernatural wants my attention, it better bring receipts. Until then, I’m keeping my skepticism and my curiosity wide open.

So, Am I Superstitious?

Let’s put it this way—I don’t live in fear of bad luck, but I also don’t poke the bear (except when it comes to ghosts, apparently).

If knocking on wood, trusting my instincts, and challenging the unknown keeps things interesting, then I’m all in.

Now, tell me—are you superstitious?

Or are you the type to laugh in the face of fate?

Drop your thoughts in the comments… but if your luck suddenly changes, don’t say I didn’t warn you.

NSFW Ink Dreams: Where Would You Put Yours?

What tattoo do you want, and where would you put it?

Some people want a discreet infinity symbol on their ankle.
Others want angel wings between their shoulder blades.
Me?

I want the Joker and Harley Quinn… tangled in sin… on my inner thigh.

Yes, you read that right. I already have six tattoos—each one a slice of my story—but this?
This one’s going to be my masterpiece.

Why settle for basic when your thighs are prime real estate for chaos, colour, and the promise of a little danger?

Why the Inner Thigh, though?

Well, darling, that’s easy.

It’s hidden… until it’s not.

It’s intimate. Naughty. A secret meant to be earned.

And every time I cross my legs or shift in bed, I’ll know there’s a beautiful madness resting just beneath my skin.

The Joker, smirking with toxic charm.
Harley, wide-eyed, wild, loyal in all the wrong ways.
The ultimate ride-or-die pair—etched into my flesh, just inches from all the fun.

Honestly? If you’re going to mark your body forever, make it interesting.
Make it tell a story… or whisper one between parted thighs.

More Tattoos. More Mischief. More Me.

My body is already a canvas of secrets and symbols.

Not just to look.
But to wonder.
To imagine what else might be hiding underneath the lace and leather.

So, yes—my Joker and Harley thigh piece is still in the works.
But the rest of my skin? Hungry. Ready. Waiting for the needle to tell another scandalous tale.

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Chapter 1: The High-Contrast Crisis

The rain outside didn’t just fall; it “carried on like a pork chop,” hammering against the corrugated iron roof of the studio. Inside, the air smelled of burnt espresso and ozone. Liam, Dax, and Dev—the Three Best Friends—were locked in a battle against a deadline that felt like hard yakka on a Saturday arvo.

The Philosophy of the Studio

The trio didn’t just build websites; they built gateways. Their manifesto was simple: Writing for Web Accessibility wasn’t an afterthought—it was the foundation.

• Liam (The Content King): He believed that for each web page, one must provide a short title that describes the page content and distinguishes it from other pages. He was currently obsessing over the “Space Teddy Inc.” homepage, ensuring the page name came before the organization name.
• Dax (The Visual Architect): His monitors were filled with color wheels and luminance grids. He knew that foreground text needs to have sufficient contrast with background colors, a rule that applied to buttons and background gradients alike.
• Dev (The Logic Master): Dev lived in the “code order.” He was currently ensuring that the order of elements in the code matched the logical order of the information presented. He often checked this by removing CSS styling to see if the content still made sense.

“If we don’t get this right,” Dev muttered, “we’re just pulling a swifty on every user who relies on a screen reader”.

The Arrival of Elias

When the thud came at the door, it wasn’t the sound of a visitor; it was the sound of a warning. Elias, a retiree known to the boys as a frequent tester of their designs, stood in the doorway. He was a man who lived with low vision, hand tremors, and mild short-term memory loss.

“I couldn’t get through the ‘Space Teddy’ checkout,” Elias panted, his voice shaking. “It was the Shadow of the Raven’s Wing. It’s back.”

Dax went pale. “The Shadow? That’s just a myth developers tell to scare juniors.”

“It’s no myth,” Elias said, leaning on a desk. “It’s a deliberate design to exclude. It’s when a site uses color alone to convey information, like marking required fields in red without an asterisk”. “But this was worse. It was a shroud.”

The Mystery of the Raven’s Wing

The Three Best Friends gathered around Liam’s main terminal. Elias pointed a weathered finger at a specific block of text that seemed to shimmer and fade.

The Raven’s Wing (Definition): A technique used by rogue developers to create “unnecessarily complex” content that bypasses the need for clear and concise sentences. It creates a “lack of headings,” making the document nearly impossible to edit or navigate for assistive technology.

“Look at the code,” Dev whispered. His fingers flew across the mechanical keyboard. “They haven’t just ignored the WCAG requirements. They’ve weaponized them. They’re using ambiguous link text like ‘click here’ to lead users into a loop”.

“And the images,” Dax added, his eyes narrowing. “There’s no meaningful text alternatives. For these informational images, they’ve used empty alt-text as if they were purely decorative”.

The First Clue: The “Superbear” Anomaly

As they dug deeper into the “Raven’s” source code, a name popped up that Liam recognized from a recent news article: Superbear.

“Wait,” Liam said, pulling up a local news site. “I just wrote about this. ‘Superbear saves the day… rescuing a young cat from a tree'”. He looked at the code Dev had unearthed. “The Raven is using the Superbear story as a mask. But look at how they’ve marked it up.”

Dev pointed to the screen:

• They used a <h2> for the title “Superbear saves the day”.
• They included a <time> tag for “7 Aug 2015”.
• But hidden inside an <aside> was a list of “Related Articles” that didn’t exist in the real world.

“Fair dinkum,” Liam breathed. “These links… ‘Superbear stands for mayor’. That never happened. They’re using WAI-ARIA roles like role="search" to hide a data-mining script”.

The Friends’ Vow

The “Shadow of the Raven’s Wing” wasn’t just a technical glitch; it was a digital wall built to stop people like Lakshmi, the blind accountant, and Ian, the clerk with autism, from accessing the truth.

“We need to audit this entire city’s infrastructure,” Dax declared. “Starting with the contrast ratios of every government portal”.

“And I’ll start rewriting the instructions,” Liam said. “No more unnecessarily technical language. We need to describe input requirements, like date formats, so even someone as stressed as Elias can navigate ‘no worries'”.

“I’ll handle the keyboard accessibility,” Dev added. “I’ll ensure every custom widget, from accordions to buttons, uses tabindex="0" to stay in the navigation order”.

They looked at each other. The task was heaps big, but they were the best in the business.

The Audit Checklist

Before they could head out into the “arvo” to confront the Raven, they had to prep their toolkit.

“She’ll be right,” Elias whispered, watching the Three Best Friends work. “As long as you keep the content clear and concise, the shadow can’t win”.

To Be Continued…

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2013: YEAR OF THE GODDESS!  By Veronica Smith

I can remember the public’s superstitious panic coming up to the year 2013.  In fact, it turned out to be the best year of my life!  I was in my fifties and about to meet my Soul Family at Dunderry Park, the Irish Centre for Shamanic Studies. 

It was not the first time that I had been to Dunderry.  My first visit was in 2011, for a one-day course on Irish Druidism.  That was followed in 2012 by a residential weekend for the Foundation in Shamanism module.  In 2013, I took the plunge and did the Shamanic Practitioner’s course, involving multiple residential weekends throughout the year. 

Staying the weekend meant that I truly got to immerse myself in the subject, without having to jerk back to “ordinary reality” at the end of the day!  One of our teachers would say on the Sunday evening: “Remember NOT to hug the petrol pump attendant, when you are filling the car on the way home because they will not understand your enlightened state!”

Each weekend module dealt with a different Shamanic theme.  I started to recognise things that I had done instinctively as a child, like listening to classical music in a quiet space and allowing my imagination to fly off into other worlds and other times.  Basically, that is a Shamanic Journey! 

Many popular superstitions were debunked too, while others were explained so that they made sense from a spiritual perspective. 

Best of all was sitting in circle with a large room full of like-minded Souls!  They came from all walks of life.  They were all different ages.  There was a good mix of males and females, not just one gender. 

My fellow attendees had so many stories of their own, which were gradually shared (when they felt safe enough) within the circle.  Most were recovering from trauma of one kind or another, including abuse, and addictions caused by the resultant Soul Loss.  They were incredibly brave people, who recognised that they were ready to heal themselves and to do something about it.  Of course, whatever is shared within the Circle, must always stay within the Circle. 

I made real life-long friends at Dunderry Park that year!  Before Dunderry, I could count barely a few genuine friends, not even enough to take part in a chain-letter exercise!!!  However, after Dunderry, we all agreed to stay in touch using Facebook because there were also people from overseas in our group. 

I had never thought of going on to a social media platform before because I had so few connections.  Now, my horizons expanded exponentially as I started to meet more people on the same wave length as myself; people who did not think I was crazy and with whom I could have deep philosophical discussions! 

Yes, 2013 was the year that I discovered my Inner Goddess! 

ENDS

for more information about courses available at Dunderry Park, Navan, County Meath, Ireland, please check out their website:

http://www.shamanismireland.com

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The Year that I would Like to Relive

https://novatopflex.wordpress.com/2025/11/01/the-year-that-i-would-like-to-relive/

My Top 5 Grocery Store Items

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Working as a House Officer, I do not go out to eat much. Mainly because our days are mainly occupied with work and after work, we would be drained. Well, most of the time.

Thus, if I were to really go out, it would be during my long breaks which is when I apply for leaves.

In terms of acquiring groceries, I rarely go to the grocery store myself as I do not have a car of my own in Sarawak. I am extremely dependent on Grab and overtime can be expensive as well.

Hence, I make do with the convenience store downstairs at my apartment which doesn’t really have much in terms of fresh foods or ordering online.

Here are my Top 5 must haves in my grocery list which is available in the convenience store if I were to just shop there.

1. Coffee

As I mentioned in some of my previous articles before. It is a must have drug in my system. Personally I think I have grown rather immune to the effects of caffeine over the years from overconsumption. Thus, if I’m unable to get my grounded coffee beans, usually I’ll make do with some freeze dried coffee or a regular black coffee powder.

2. Oats

I replace rice for rolled oats when I’m living alone. Back at home, my mother would always cook rice as my parents love rice. However, I noticed that I easily crash or get sleepy easily after consuming rice. Thus, I substitute it for rolled oats and usually I would cook soups or curries and pour the oats over it and consume it just like regular rice.

3. Eggs

It is easily available. When there is nothing else stored in my pantry and everything else is closed, eggs go about well with almost everything. 

4. Noodles

Well, I’m not exactly healthy per se all the time, and I do enjoy my occasional instant noodles. Especially after work and not having a meal the whole day, I’ll just whip up a quick dish of curry instant noodles with eggs.

5. Sausages

Personally, I prefer chicken over sausages and as mentioned before, I rarely go out for my groceries. Hence, I’d go for sausage since it is easily available at the convenience store downstairs. In addition to that, I can be versatile with cooking them.

Thus, if I had to list 5 of the hat, these are my top 5 that I would shop for in any grocery stores amidst working as a House Officer.

Again, sadly, it lacks nutrition. But, oh well.

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Is there an age or year of your life you would re-live?

Daily writing prompt

This is one of those difficult questions that requires a little too much self-examination. A little more than I am willing to do at 6:39am on a Saturday morning at least.

A year I would re-live… The answer, of course, is none of them. It is also all of them. The catch is that I would re-live them all only if I could do so without changing anything. There was a time in my past when I wanted to go back and change everything, especially myself. I was basically cripplingly shy and afraid of everything. Socially speaking I was useless and romantically… well, that was literally non-existent.

Then in April of 2007 I went on a first date with someone remarkable. On some strange subconscious level I sort of said fuck it and got over all of my hangups and some how, magically, that first date turned into my first relationship which then turned into my marriage. At that point it occurred to me that all of the problems I dealt with before April 2007 were just steps on the path that lead me to the place… to the me… that I needed to be. Those experiences made me someone that Jen could find value in. Someone that Jen could fall in love with and marry and allow to be a step father to her two children.

That is why I don’t want to re-live even a single day, because doing so runs the risk of changing the eventual outcome. That is literally the last thing in the universe that I would ever want. I wouldn’t mind observing the me that I used to be, but I wouldn’t want to do so in a way that would affect any decisions I had ever made. I would especially like to re-observe everything post April 2007 as that would allow me to see myself becoming that one thing I had always believed I would never be… happy. That’s a movie I wouldn’t mind seeing.

So the short answer to what year or age would I want to re-live is none. As hard as it is to believe, I think I got it right on the first try. I mean, how weird is that?

https://robertjames1971.blog/2023/11/04/re-live-the-past/

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