Purple rain

She instantly regretted the decision she’d made in following Chuck out into the corn field. In a psychedelic haze it was an impossibility to distinguish him from the scarecrow, and the little hut where they’d fumbled previously, was threatening to eat her-whole.

‘No more tripping for me’ she sighed before passing out in the rain.

Written for one shoot Sunday over at one stop poetry

Today’s artwork provided by Sean McCormick


24 responses to “Purple rain

  1. way cool!at least thats what my daughter would say!i haven’t attempted the 55 as yet,but this makes me want to give it a shot.very nice read!

  2. Love it, Shan! Perfect title, and the action in the poem lives up to it splendidly. Never trust a man named Chuckie who looks like a scarecrow(or is really short.) 😉

  3. ooohh…very witty!! 🙂
    He was compared to a scarecrow.. hehehe…poor chap! 🙂
    As for those ‘fumbly trips’, hmm… (sigh)… time will tell 😉

    Good one, Shan!! 🙂

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