Day 10: Use the directional words as you get to them. Start with: Just like the little red caboose. . .

Up the steep incline of life I chugged along, not knowing how long it's going to be like this. But there's no turning back, or else I'll hurtle downhill faster than ever, with no engine to break my slide down. Then I reached a fork in the railway.... which way to go? Right my instinct told me, and my instincts were wrong. Left, I should have turned left, but I don't have time to dwell on my wrong move. Take the road that you chose and see what's up ahead. And as if to validate my wrong decision, I suddenly found myself rushing down headlong into the depths of depression. Down deeper and deeper I went. No where to go but up now.

DAY 9: FICTIONARY

Write a dictionary-style definition for the word EC.DYS.IAST (pronounced eckDIZeeAST). Use ECDYSIAST with your fictitious definition in a story. Start with : It all started when . . .

Ecdysiast: 1. noun - someone practicing ecdysia or body tattooing using only naturally occuring dyes or inks.

It all started when Juno met Bruce five years ago. Since then they have been hanging out. Bruce was a tattoo artist and his passion rubbed off on Juno. But Juno, who had his own quirks, wanted to take tattooing a step further. He wanted to stand out among the practitioners -- consistent with his being an "organic" aficionado, he wanted to use purely natural dyes and inks. Even his needles were the organic kind. He started toying with bright colored insects that were known to yield bright colors and crushed them to get just the hue he imagined. He also built up a collection of common plant dyes. But he was not satisfied. He was obsessed with getting his dyes solely from the human body. Anybody would be grossed out by the green puke from someone who hasn't eaten anything in days, when the stomach contains only acids and bile. Green. Naturally occurring green. Blood, that's always available, but even blood has different shades and he wanted to get as many shades and consistency as he can get his hands on. A thousand substances from the human body. He gets a high from discovering new ways to use human fluids and tissues for his works of body art.

So the killings were baffling the police when it first began. . .

Day 8: MY CONDIMENTS TO THE CHEF!

Use all of these words (mayonnaise, mustard, soy sauce, pickle, relish, ketchup, pickle, hot peppers) in a piece that starts: His taste in women was . . .

. . . as if he was filling out his condiments shelves. You can't help but think, too, that he's trying out all kinds of sauces to get that one perfect sauce, if not the right combination. That makes sense too. For a while, he was fascinated by the Asian women. Soy sauce -- rich dark brown, steeped in tradition. Very oriental. The mayonnaise phase wasn't very obvious -- creamy skin would immediately come to mind. But no, his love for mayonnaise was not skin deep. The simplicity of it's components, no hard-to-find ingredients. So simple, yet so complimentary to his crusty, deep fried persona. Red hot chili peppers, that was the wild ride. Apparently too hot to handle that it was a fleeting fancy. He had his mustard, someone who gave away very little of herself, yet had a deep impact on him.

Who can forget the one that brought out the kid in him-- ketchup girl. Everything seemed to improve with just a drop or two of her, as it were. A bit messy at times, but fun messy.

And then the love of his life came along -- sweet pickle relish, green eco-friendly woman. Just what he needed after all spicy hot flavors, some of it still in his mouth. Washed it all away with her. Now that's his favorite condiment, and he has decided he can't live without her.