For awhile now, I've been working on my second novel, Ghost in the Porcelain.  This horrifying tale is the prequel to my story, Porcelain, which I plan on revamping in 2019.  Right now, I'm hoping to complete my novel by January 1st, which is why this blog has been left to the side.  And I apologize for that.

Earlier this year, I wrote a short story called, The Broken Dolls, which introduces you to the victims and the chaos that the doll left behind.  This doll has been around for a very long time, and there are a lot of victims.  And the end is far from near...

The Broken Dolls Melissa R. Mendelson
The house was quiet.  The walls were bare.  Family photographs were tucked away in cardboard boxes.  The staircase was dusty as if to cover any tracks of what had happened here, but the truth were the holes in the walls that still echoed with misery.  One cardboard box was torn open, and inside were broken dolls.  Their arms and legs stuck through the sides of the box, and their deca…

New Short Story: The Last Good-Bye

The Last Good-Bye (Based on a Dream) by, Melissa R. Mendelson
The metallic, sliding doors looked heavy.  They opened quietly, but when they locked into place, it was a jarring sound. They were ugly and gray with two little windows decorated with fragments of newspaper, and all those headlines had faded like yesterday.  The scenery through the doors was black, but there were brief moments of flashing white. The hallway was filled with more metallic, sliding doors, rigid soldiers guarding whatever it was that waited outside. My brother stood beside me.  He buzzed with excitement.  His mouth never closed, but his words fell on deaf ears.  He hardly looked around, failing to see all those people standing around us, and our parents were in front of us, holding each other’s hands. Then, my brother’s eagerness turned into a scoff, and I realized that my two baby brothers were moving along the line, looking for us. “You can’t come with us,” my father said.  He reached into his wallet and pulled ou…

New Poem: Dedicated to the Expired Shelves

Dedicated to the Expired Shelves by, Melissa R. Mendelson
Doctor, Doctor.  There is a pain in my tummy.   I don’t know what happened,   but I’m gaseous and runny.   All I did was go to the supermarket  and buy something yummy.   Then, I ate it  and started to feel funny.   Now, I’m in the E.R.,   and the medical bills will claim my money.   I should have checked the expiration date,  but they played me for a dummy.

Movie Review: An Interview with God

Movie Review: An Interview with God

by, Melissa R. Mendelson

Why do bad things happen to good people?  What did we do to deserve such misery?  Is it because there is so much bad in this world, but what about faith? Doesn’t that shield us from such terrible things?  Don’t we deserve answers, but we ask every day, waiting.  And it never comes, and still we ask.  And some stop asking.  We just accept what we see in this world.  This is how things are and how they will be.  Nothing will change, so why bother asking?  Bad things just happen to good people, and asking is like listening to radio static.  He will not answer, and we will never know. What if you were walking through the park one day?  The sun’s shining.  People are jogging nearby.  Some old men are playing Chess.  Then, you stop walking and turn to see this man sitting there, staring at you.  It’s like he was waiting for you, and for some reason, you move toward him, sit down on the opposite side of the Chess table. And he seeme…

Poem: Lying Down With Lions

Lying Down With Lions by, Melissa R. Mendelson
We lie down with lions,   so they could chew on our bones,   puncture our skin,   and savor victory.   We lie down with lions,   deafened by their roar,   swallowing up our cries.   We lie down with lions  for we must be led,   even if the path is narrow,   but our faith is blind.   We lie down with lions,   so the jungle will not take us.   And we will live another day.

Short Story: When The Pennies Fall

When The Pennies Fall
(Inspired by Rest Haven, Monroe, NY) Melissa R. Mendelson
The birds wake me up in the morning with their chirping and flapping.  I hear them inside the walls.  I always wondered how they got in there, but it was a familiar, comforting sound.  There was no sound today.  That bothered me.  Summer was not over yet, and they usually left right before winter.  Then, they would return, telling me that spring was on its way.  They should be chirping and flapping right about now, but they weren’t.  And the silence broke into a symphony of snores. Becky had started to sneak into my room at night.  She didn’t want to startle me by crawling into the bed.  The bed was also small, so she slept on the arm chair to the left in the corner.  I didn’t know she was there until she started to snore.  Sometimes, she would even talk in her sleep.  At least, she would try to.  It was like she was chasing conversations with a ghost. The breakfast call sounded from the kitchen and marched up …