Writing by Seto

Adamantly arise afore atrophy, attributed along another attempted accusation amidst angelic admiration, allows an able avaunt-garde artist abstraction accents atop atmosphere.  Arguments align abrasive auras amongst absurd accidents as academic aesthetics.

Before brittle brimstone brings Babylon broken beyond breaths beginning, befriend brothers beguiled by beauties, but beware brothels begging blasphemous births begotten be blotted between bloodied blankets.

Controlled chaos collecting contemporary creativity concerning civilizations currently crumbling cleverly climatizing cognitive consummations.  Childish curiosity crushed confusing concern concentrating creations cautiously cradled concealing coruscation.

Diving deliciously down, dwellings drown delusions drawn deceptively, dropping dissuaded dozens discursively discontent.

Evening envies energetically eager entwinement except exempt euphemisms ending engagements ever endowed.  Even Egrets entertain endangerment’s empire's ejected exclamation emanating expiration.

Finally faltering from flying, floating favorably, finding facts fast, fettered figuratively full force  furthermore flung fro for filleted fists flanking fabrics fabulously frail frayed, flourishing faithfully

Generously grand grimaces grounded giraffe gallivanting. Generations go guiltily green given gilded grievances.

Hidden herbivores hunger humorlessly, having heard humans hunt hydrated herb harvests. Hereby hundreds hear heavy heart hammerings harboring horrifying hostage hoaxes.

Ingenious insects ingest indignant indications in individual identifying immunity imitating infestations.

Justified jurisdictions just jest juicily, jumping junior jurors jaywalking judgments, juggling joyous juveniles.

Kings knighting kneeling kids kindles kindred knavery keeping knowing kittens kneading knitted knots.

Lampposts light little livelihoods littered lovingly, listing libations liberally left lest leviathans linger, leveling legislature.

Maritime moonlit mad men meant meaningless mannerism ministrations, mercilessly mincing mixtures mermaids must mutely mourn misinterpreting.

No nested ninny needs noxious narrations nearing neighboring nuance navigators.

Out of order ornamentation often opens overarching ordainment on other organizations overtures.  Obligatory obedience over opaque obscurities observes oblique ownership.

Pester pedestrians passing plebeian prepubescent persecutions preparing passively prior poster pondering pinning.

Questing quintuplet queens quickly quote quacking quark quandaries quintessentially quieted.  Quarreling quizzers question quality quasi quakes quilting quarter quirks.

Roses resist reviving red resins, ribbing rivets rippled readings rightly ridding rested regimes regarding resident ringed ripe raisins.

Silly Salty sells soft sentiments, subtly serenading Seto­ so swooning sunlight, soon swelling, slowly should send shifting shimmering subconscious songs soaring surreptitiously, since slathering simple segues sees slices shivering sleep showered spirals shall suddenly squeeze shutters sealed.

Thunder treads tremendously, trending toward tripping trivially trimmed time, turning to the tumultuous tumor tourniquet.

Users underestimating unidentified undulating ulcer unit usage undermines understating unnecessary umbrage uttering understandings.

Vicariously vile visitors voted visitation voyeurism vetted vintage varmints vindicating valuable vestige variants.

Weathered whelps were whetted when winter wisps wrangled whispering women's willingness where witty wrens wonder, withstanding wearily wistful whistling.

Xylotomist xeroxed xanthomatous xanthochroid xenogamy xerosis x-rays.

Yesterday you yelled, yearning young yeast yellowed yoghurt. Yawning youthful yuletide yachtsmen yodel yearly yielding yoga yarn yardage.

Zombified zest zaps zigzagging zinc zygotes zinging zero zoo zebra's zippers

A little rewrite of “the 12 days “ for a friend who loves pugs. Inspired by her Pug Christmas Tree

On the first day of pugsmas a true friend gave to me: 

a puglet in a pug tree

On the second day of pugsmas a true friend gave to me: 

two pug dogs, 

and a puglet in a pug tree

On the third day of pugsmas a true friend gave to me: 

three pug pens,

two pug dogs, 

and a puglet in a pug tree

On the fourth day of pugsmas a true friend gave to me: 

four borking pugs, 

three pug pens,

 two pug dogs, 

and a puglet in a pug tree

On the fifth day of pugsmas a true friend gave to me: 

five ornery pugs,

four borking pugs, 

three pug pens, 

two pug dogs, 

and a puglet in a pug tree

On the sixth day of pugsmas a true friend gave to me: 

six pugs a playing, 

5 ornery pugs, 

four borking pugs, 

three pug pens, 

two pug dogs, 

and a puglet in a pug tree

On the seventh day of pugsmas a true friend gave to me: 

seven pugs a running, 

six pugs a playing, 

five ornery pugs, 

four borking pugs, 

three pug pens, 

two pug dogs, 

and a puglet in a pug tree

On the eighth day of pugsmas a true friend gave to me: 

eight puglets snoring,

seven pugs a running, 

six pugs a playing, 

five ornery pugs, 

four borking pugs, 

three pug pens, 

two pug dogs, 

and a puglet in a pug tree

On the ninth day of pugsmas a true friend gave to me: 

nine pug dogs dancing, 

eight puglets snoring, 

seven pugs a running, 

six pugs a playing, 

five ornery pugs, 

four borking pugs, 

three pug pens, 

two pug dogs, 

and a puglet in a pug tree

On the tenth day of pugsmas a true friend gave to me: 

ten pugs in costume,  

nine pug dogs dancing, 

eight puglets snoring, 

seven pugs a running, 

six pugs a playing,

five ornery pugs, 

four borking pugs, 

three pug pens, 

two pug dogs, 

and a puglet in a pug tree

On the eleventh day of pugsmas a true friend gave to me: 

eleven puglets prancing,  

ten pugs in costume,  

nine pug dogs dancing, 

eight puglets snoring, 

seven pugs a running, 

six pugs a playing, 

five ornery pugs, 

four borking pugs, 

three pug pens, 

two pug dogs, 

and a puglet in a pug tree

On the twelfth day of pugsmas my true friend gave to me: 

twelve silly puglets, 

eleven puglets prancing,  

ten pugs in costume,  

nine pug dogs dancing,

eight puglets snoring, 

seven pugs a running, 

six pugs a playing, 

five ornery pugs, 

four borking pugs, 

three pug pens, 

two pug dogs, 

A Christmas story with rhymes.

Trigger warnings: contains a mention of violence/abuse, not a Christian version of Christmas.

.

Twas the dark before Christmas and all through the house, no creature scurried, not even the mouse. The clock had struck midnight and time had stood still. A darkness was rising below the fireplace syll.

TimTim was sleeping, snugged tight in his bed, dreaming of gifts and treats in his head. He awoke to a sound, so light and so round. A jingle, a tingle, a soft single bell, a sound joyous and swell.  It came from down stairs in the living room. It must be Santa, TimTim would assume.

He peeked down the stairs, and saw his mother asleep on the couch, after her prayers.  From the fireplace arose a black hat from the soot, it raised up and up at least by a foot. Then out came a man dressed in a midnight satin suit, over his shoulder hung a pearly sack bulging with loot.

Ash cloven hoof prints were left by the heels of his vegan leather knee high size tens as he slid across the floor, looking through a dark crimson red lens.  He stopped at the tree, knelt down and pulled out gifts, one, two, and three.

On the couch mother stirred, and looked up at what she'd heard, but quick as a Mamba he pressed a finger to her lip.  A soft “shh, please miss do not flip,” and his gaze flashed to the stairs, a wink to the boy and a “you'll wake TimTim and we both know he does not like scares.” He looked at mother again, using magic to help her back to sleep.  He pressed a kiss to her forehead and said “Goodnight, sweet dreams, and do not weep.”

Then up again to the mantle he slipped, taking a red velvet cookie before disappearing back to his soot filled crypt.  

-

The next morning TimTim jumped happily down each step, ready to tear through the gifts with a vigorous pep.

The first gift, clad in crimson satin, was a bike, shiny and red with handles in black, and a pearly white seat. The second made a sound far too sweet.  

TimTim opened it with a quick rip. He found a black, red eyed pup, who tackled him with a bork and yip.  He took the pups tiny paws, and with a huge smile he told it that he saw his mommy kissing Santa Claus. They played and played until, with a clipped knock at the door, mother awoke and answered the door for a bloke.

TimTim hid with his pup knowing what would come next. The man rose his voice about a text.  There was a shriek and a slam as a bottle shattered on the wall. Then in came a man, full of anger as wide as he was tall. TimTim stared, frozen, through a teary gaze- Christmas should not be one of these days. 

Just then a growl from the pup filled up the room, and he grew and grew, fast with a zoom. His snarl was loud, and his snort left an ashen cloud. With a snap and a crack the naughty man was devoured, as he screamed and he cowered.

-

Later that day TimTim gave his mother gift three.  She opened it while the pup and TimTim played by the tree.  Inside was a letter, that made everything better:

“Dear Satan, 

this year has been hard, but we moved to a house with a yard. I know Christmas is not for awhile, but this year I only want a bike, a puppy, and to see my mom smile.”