Cages Can Kill

“Wild women die in captivity.”

“Ciguapas aren’t women, Dust. Ever met a chick who could knock a man out with her voice? Or who had feet pointing in the same direction as her ass?”

Dustin watched the ciguapa, the woman, sitting by the waterfall grooming her hair. “We can’t cage her. She won’t survive.”

“She’ll live long enough. We can’t be blamed if she dies after we get paid.” He smirked before aiming the dart rifle at her hip.

“No!” Dustin smacked the rifle as the other man pulled the trigger.

His dart missed.

But her song got them both.


the wee notes…
– I grew up in a small village, in the Dominican Republic, listening to stories about ciguapas, mythological beings of Dominican and Puerto Rican folklore. According to my Grandmother, ciguapas were extremely fast, had a jet-black mane that went all the way down to their feet (which pointed backwards), and every single one of them was female… For this reason, most legends say, they enthralled human males (for a day or 3 of passionate love-making) in order to keep their species going.

– written for Friday Fictioneers, where Rochelle Wisoff-Fields, invites us to use a photo (the 2nd in this post) as inspiration for a story of 100 words or fewer. To read more waterfall-inspired tales, follow this link.


Ciguapa, by Felix Esteban Rosario

photo by Dale Rogerson


Last Year’s Bones…

“Sometimes you get what you want, but mostly you get what you get.” ~ Sleeping Beauties, by S. and O. King

2017 was huge on getting me what I got… And since what I got (even if not exactly what I wanted) didn’t always take away my power to twist it into what I needed, I am grateful. If next year brings me a similar basket of lemons, I’ll be the joy-drunk lunatic sipping the  nonalcoholic mojitos.

about Last Year’s Projects…
…I finished my Diversity Reading List, but didn’t feel the inclination to review all the books. I also finished Rereading My Pratchett—it took me 2 years—and I enjoyed every bit of it (and I suspect that I’ll do it again).

about Pomegranates…
…mythology says that this yummiest of fruits (except mango, of course) symbolizes prosperity, protection, wisdom, and all things in-between. I love myth almost as much as I love wild things (& ellipses). So, mañana should find my sexy Self eating 3 pomegranates, and wishing, wishing, wishing… for the success of anyone who truly needs it, for fertile muses for any mind that works at her art, for the protection of anyone in need…

…and my HUGEST wish: enough wisdom to hammer social stupidity. Wish with me, won’t you? Let’s (work hard for it, and) will it to be.

Now, my Wicked Luvs… would you care to tell me about any of the bits you completed this year? And, mayhap, the to-dos that must await 2018?

last year’s bones
swimming in the blood
of morrows