A Lesson by The Pain Stays Fresh

This is a great exercise for getting started.


Below are posted several silly prompts. I want you to pick one and run with it.

♦My dog sees the dead.

♦The ghost was eating a peanut butter sandwich.

♦Mrs. Shufflebottom's wig has disappeared.

♦I am King of the land Cheeseballia.

This is just to get the creative juices flowing. Once you have a rough draft, feel free to look over and refine it a bit. Write for about 20 minutes and see what you come up with. You might be surprised!

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Posted 6 Years Ago

The ghost was eating a peanut butter sandwich. I had to look again to be sure of what I was seeing. That would explain why my peanut butter and bread kept disappearing ever since I moved into this house. There was something very odd going on. How could a ghost eat real food? This did not make sense. The ghost didn't even react to my presence as I walked around the table and stood behind him. I waited and watched as it ate seven peanut butter sandwiches and then vanished leaving a mess behind on the table.
The bread and peanut butter was all but gone. I decided to experiment with this situation. After a bit more rest, I went to the store and bought more bread and peanut butter. Just before bed, I made seven peanut butter sandwiches and left them on the table. I also left a note. 'Please clean up your mess'.
The next morning the sandwiches were gone and the table was cleaned off. Then another idea formed in my mind. Instead of peanut butter, I bought cashew butter and pita pockets. Again I made sandwiches and left a note. 'No more peanut butter or bread. these will have to do.'
When morning came, I had a mess in the kitchen. The ghost did not like the sandwiches. Now for my next plan. I took all the food out of the kitchen and stored it in the garage. I even packed up the dishes and brought in paper plates and styrofoam cups. Tonight I left a not. 'the kitchen is closed'
I knew the ghost came at 2 in the morning. I waited then at two; I went out to the kitchen to find the ghost looking into every cabinet for food. "Didn't you get my note. The kitchen is closed. I refuse to buy any more food for you."
"Peanut butter...." it groaned in a gaggly voice.
"Peanut butter."
"NO! go away."
"Peanut butter!"
"i SAID NO!!!! NOW, GO AWAY!!!"
With that last yell, the ghost left.
The next morning, I researched my house. I found a man died there after eating too many peanut butter sandwiches without anything to was them down with.
Maybe next time I will just give him a glass of milk, However, I don't expect to see him again.

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Posted 7 Years Ago

My dog sees the dead. Well, let me amend that. Danny sees the dead and the soon-to-be dead. As his owner, I find this peculiar talent has its advatages as well as drawbacks. On the plus side, Danny's circling three times and barking continuously in front of the framed picture of my mother-in-law, who was expected to go "any minute", saved me the hassle of driving 60 miles so I could sit on a bench in a hospital corridor outside her room and wait for her last breath. As I was not considered "real family," I couldn't go in her room and take up a chair. When I heard that peculiar high-pitched yip and saw Danny do his spin, I air-pumped my fist in the air and gave the dog a biscuit. Score! No use driving to the hospital now when she's dead, right? I'll see everyone at the funeral.
On the down side, taking Danny for a walk around the neighborhood has becaome a bit of a bummer. Some of our elderly neighbors are charmed when my dog pulls at his leash so he can sniff their hands in confirmation, select one of the three old darlings who are gossiping by their mailboxes, and do Danny's Dance of Death.
"Look, Mildred! He must really like you!" Then there's the searching of pockets and offering of a cookie or the promises of a large bone for Danny after Mildred's next trip to the butcher. Which won't happen. Danny runs a tight timeline.
I don't say anything, of course. How do you delicately ask someone if they have a funeral plan and if their house is clean because family will be coming? You don't. But I'm always the first to bring over a casserole and some flowers. It's the least I can do.

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Posted 7 Years Ago

My dog sees the dead. How do I know? I see them too.

I was about eight years old the first time I saw a ghost. Luckily my mom also sees them and talked me down from the fit of histeria I was having. The experience really freaked my out.

We were coming home from burying my grandma when I saw her sitting on the swing outside the back door. Freckles, my dog was sitting at her feet barking at her. Grandma waved at me and beckoned me to come closer. I jumped behind my mom and started to cry.

"Austin, it is nothing to be afaid of," Mom said. "I see her sitting on the swing, as well. We share a gift of being able to help the dead. Take my hand and let's go see what she has to say."

I trusted my mom and bravely took her hand as we walked over to the swing.

"Austin," my grandma said. "I whised your gift had presented itself sooner. I would have liked to be able to help you learn its secrets. I am glad that I am your first ghost. We have a lot to discuss but not much time. Don't be afriad of your gift. Your mom will be here to help you along the way. You will learn how to help release the ghost into the spirit world so they can continue on with their existence. Be patient with them but firm. Do not try to help a ghost on your own for a few years. I love you and will try to help you from time to time. I must go now but you will see me again."

Her hug was cold and clamy against me skin. I watched as she grew dim and faded away.

Freckels came over and licked me on the hand to let me know everything was all right. Mom gave me a hug and took away the chill my grandma had left on my arms.

"Honey, I know you have a lot of questions to ask and I will try my best to answer them. Let's go in and get something to eat while we talk."

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Posted 8 Years Ago

The ghost was eating a peanut butter sandwich

Wearily Mary Vickers trudged through the door of apartment. She had a grueling day at work and was pretty sure she was about to be fired. All she wanted to do was eat dinner and go to bed. But fate had another surprise in store for her.

The ghost was eating a peanut butter sandwich. she looked slightly amused and the only acknowledgement she gave to me was an appraising look. then she went back to chowing down on the sandwich. After several minutes of silence she looked back up and told me
"you didn't have any grape jelly, you should get some"
"w-what" i replied. i think i was in shock. i mean there is a ghost in my kitchen eating a sandwich. she seemed so mundane. That's when it hit me.
"Hey," I said accusingly "that was the last of the peanut butter"
A bemused expression flitted across her face
"It's not funny, Now what am i supposed to eat." i grumbled crossly
"I saw some Macaroni in the pantry" she said grinning.
"Okay fine, but why are you here, i thought ghosts lived in like , heaven or hell or something"
"why, because what i'm was looking for doesn't exist in Heaven." she said matter of factly
"what could you possibly be looking for that doesn't exist in Heaven?" i wondered aloud
Smiling she polished off her sandwich and licked her fingers. "peanut butter" she said and vanished.
"HEY" i yelled after her "you still owe me some peanut butter"
But the only reply i received was fading giggle.

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Posted 8 Years Ago

♦My dog sees the dead:

The day ended with the moon chasing the sun away. The house was and old long abonded shack until a family of four moved in aproximatly 1 year ago.

Same was tossing and turning over an hour as his german shephert named Buddy layed at the end of the bed with the cover slightly over his head.

"I am glad you can sleep you old mut. Cut out that snoring would you?"

Buddy always kept same awake but sam was alittle tired of it and pushed him off the bed.

Buddy walked over to the corner were Same had tossed his dirty socks carelesly on the floor and laid quitly. moments later buddy raised his paw as if he were receiving a treat.

"Buddy what are you doing you crasy dog."

Buddy turn toward Same.

"I see dead people."

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The Pain Stays Fresh
The Pain Stays Fresh

Alma, AR

I'm a total black sheep. I love reading, writing, talking, music older than I am, and watching old westerns on rainy days. I prefer writing stories and short poetry. You'd think by reading some of my..