Category: Potato Moon

PAD here. I just want to take this moment to say that I am, quite frankly, blown away by the quality of submissions we’re getting. Great job to all concerned, and keep it coming!

Jakob stopped, perplexed. Most women had shot him down by this point, and a few were normally calling the police. What DID he have to offer? He looked down at the spurned spud in his hands, realizing that his macaroni art was even less accomplished than his attempts at effigy.

Taking his silence as a silent confirmation of her fears, Bela said, “That’s what I thought.”

Jakob bridled and replied sharply. Bela looked at him, confused. Jakob removed the bridle and repeated himself, “I have plenty to offer you, not the least of which would be an intriguing mystery to discover what I have to offer you.”

Bela studied him, noticed the uncontrolled quivering of his lip, the glazed, sweet look of his eyes that reminded her of donuts, the sheen of sweat on his forehead that made him sparkle like an adolescent with a gland problem…

Continue Reading “POTATO MOON, Part 8 by David Cardillo” →

NOTE: This is the second entry within the past day. So be sure to read part 6 by Michael Davidson before you start on this one!

The room grew cold and colder in the night shade, and a wild wind whipped the flickering flambeaus on the façade into a flashing frenzy.

“Castle Thunder” grumbled throatily outside as Jakob stared into the face of Bela, the selfsame Bela who had just mocked his ardent devotion. Her eyes, usually as soft as triple-pureed adirondack blues, were now cold and devoid of affection.

“Woe is me,” sighed Jakob.

As if on cue, an apparition drifted into the room like steam over a bowl of boiled lilis. It was Woeisme, her raven hair standing out against her yellow-scalloped nightgown stamped with maris pipers, which only poorly disguised the growing shapeliness of her form.

Continue Reading “POTATO MOON, Part 7 by Christopher DeSantis” →

His hands moved rhythmically, spurred on by ancient, guttural tones. The lights flickered, spasming like a fish too far from water, or a careless electrician.

Jakob’s face stressed and contorted. Sweat began to bead on his over-long forehead. His eyes rolled back, his body slacked. He was done.

Continue Reading “POTATO MOON, Part 6 by Michael Davidson” →

“Jaaaakob,” came the soft dulcet tones that sent a lick of fire scampering through his veins before plummeting downwards. As the figure stepped into a shaft of moonlight, Bela’s sweetly curved face and glistening russet hair tilted up towards him.

They stood together for what seemed an endless moment, trapped in the glow and gazing at each other. Jakob’s hand gripped the voluptuous potato, digging his fingers into the flesh as its juices escaped, dripping down his fingers. How could he have forgotten this? The way the smell of her made him itch inside his very soul? He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Woeisme was a forced infatuation he had deluded himself with, if only to forget .. to forget the way she looked right into him.

He lifted the potato up helplessly to her. The wetness where he had gripped it caught the glow of moonlight. Lips curved in soft humor, her eyes traveled down to gaze at the juicy russet nestled securely in his large hand. An eyebrow arched and a flash of hunger glimmered deep within the warm dark pools of her eyes.

“What are you offering me Jakob?”

Continue Reading “POTATO MOON Part 5 by by Cat Jenkins” →

Jakob cautiously crept forward and came to the steps of Sullen Manor. As Jakob reached to open its towering doors, his mind overcame with second thoughts. Perhaps it was a mistake to come. After all who was to say Bela was even home. Or maybe she was on the couch making time with Edwood, could Jakob bear the sight of his beloved embraced in passion with his rival. Yet still, what if she was home shaving her legs, clipping her toenails, or some other ghastly sight one shouldn’t see if one hoped to keep the image of that impossible perfect ideal one has of their true love.

Continue Reading “POTATO MOON, Part 4, by Sana Keith” →

Rooted in humiliation as the moisture trickled down his bark, Jakob could only plot his eventual revenge. He knew now who the wolves were and he’d enlist the aid of Woeisme and her brother Something, maybe even Edwood could be compelled to plot a comeuppance.

Continue Reading “Potato Moon: Part 3 by Karyl Lee” →

In order to try and accommodate the large number of folks we already have in line (with more coming in each day), we’ll be changing the 24-hour rule slightly.

Continue Reading “New Rules for “Potato Moon”” →