Another week has passed, and we have our Six Sentence Story featuring the Nervous Poet, who accidentally found herself at the Six Sentence Café and Bistro in my last week's entry. The story is a collaborative one, and you can read about the happenings at the café from several perspectives—and discover some other of their work along the way... Here are a few of the writers/blogs involved: the Wakefield Doctrine, inSPIRAtion, Luna's on line, Messymimi's meanderings, and of course we can not forget our hostess of the six-sentence blog hop, Denise at Girlie On The Edge.

This week's entries to the six sentence challenge can be found at the link-up, as usual.

Please do check them out and perhaps you want to participate too.

Rules of the hop:
Write 6 Sentences. No more. No less.
Use the current week’s prompt word.
Link up at Wednesday’s post. Link goes live at 6:00 pm through Saturday late…
Spread the word and put in a good one to your fellow writers.

PROMPT WORD:  OPTION

Six Sentence Story - the Nervous Poet thieving from the Six Sentence Café & Bistro

"What the heck do I do now, this is so embarrassing," Aurelia muttered, sitting behind her desk while staring at the mysterious box in front of her; you could say for the backstory that after the lights came back on, Aurelia discovered she had tripped over a fancy-looking azure-blue box with ornate charcoal lettering: For Poets and Writers Alike.

While we established that this poet's main character flaw was her nervousness and fear of the dark, the weirdest trait was that she took a liking to boxes, and this box was curious-looking enough for her to pick it up and, without thinking—before her panic from the dark had subsided—she found herself returning home with the box lodged under her arm.

No wonder she felt a rush of guilt and fear that her thieving would come to light, for she had intended to give the box to the bartender and now found herself battling over whether she should look inside or not before deciding what to do with it: keep it or pick the option that required her to admit she had taken something home on her first visit.

"Surely everyone had noticed the box I was carrying," she sighed as she traced the lettering, and it seemed as if the box itself was calling out to her: "Aurelia, discover me, look inside, look," and before she knew it, the contents lay scattered across her desk:

fifty-four mahogany blocks, each with exactly one word engraved upon it, and nestled among them were azure-blue stones; "Wow, so pretty," Aurelia gasped while reaching for the included envelope and pulling out what looked like some type of introduction.

"Hello poets, you think you are good with words..." Aurelia read the first line and thought to herself that she had never assumed she was good with words, more that she was constantly overseeing medieval-style duels between synonyms, and if one happened to lose, she sometimes felt sorry for it and favored it anyway.

"The rules are simple: pull a block and use the word in your poem; choose carefully, because if you collapse the tower, you must use all the unchosen ones too," Aurelia read, pausing for a while, as if gathering her thoughts—or experiencing the existential dread of having to use all fifty-four of them—before getting up and putting on her combat boots, determined to return to the café and apologize for 'borrowing' a tabletop game—perhaps the pretty box is something to put on display and forget if there are other 'Poets and Writers Alike' (besides the Nervous Poet) who are scared of words.

There's more of my work:

If you like short stories I have them scooped up into one category (including the six-sentence stories).

Or maybe you prefer poetry,, more personal entries can be found at the Blog.

There's also the IT studies blog in Estonian and "Chaos in Spring" on YouTube, Spotify and other streaming services.