Whereas I'm so desperate for a creative outlet that I wrote poetry in my dream last night. Then posted it here, and you guys liked it, although someone using the screen name NerdNick didn't think it was sexy enough.

I wish I slept with a pencil and notebook near the bed, because I remembered a bit of it on waking but can't remember it now, and I bet it would be funny as all get-out. Magnetic Subconscious Poetry.

On the Bus

I gave away one breakfast burrito, two encouraging speeches (one to a Mexican girl embarrassed by the look of an evil-eyed old man, and one to a sexy drug addict on his way to rehab) three dollars, four words of bad Spanish, a handful of crackers and an apple.

Five weeks later, I wasted about six cups of tears, or about what one might reasonably cry between Los Angeles and Blythe.

I was then asked to stop doing that. So, I did. Instead I gave advice to four lost French boys, and then I gave three stories, two socks (a pair), a quarter for the telephone, and my place in line.

When I stepped off the bus, I had no more tears, quarters, words, or books, nor any desire to ever live in California again.

::Wild applause!::

Mmm, lovely

I couldn't get it under 100 words, but I like it. Thanks guys.

It's got that certain something something. The character is tangible. I feel like- if the narrator walked in the room I would recognize them.

Deena, that's lovely and incredibly evocative. Write more, please!

I never ride the bus. I realize this shouldn't stop me writing a drabble about it, but.

What AmyLiz said. I think the last time I rode a bus was about 10 years ago, because my car was parked in. Otherwise, I wouldn't have.

That was absolutely lovely, Deena.

Thanks guys. I really hope someone keeps giving drabble prompts because I can never think of anything to write until I see it. Sometimes I still can't think of anything, but at least it's more likely that something will float up.

If I may try my hand at a prompt?

The day off.