When I wake up in the morning, one of the first things I do is go to my WordPress app and check my stats to see how many views my blog got while I was sleeping. Typically, that number is between 85 and 120. But this morning I saw this.Yes, that’s right. Almost 600 views, a number of views that is higher than what I usually get in total on an average day!
And then I saw this in my Reader.464 hourly views when my normal hourly average is more like 22! What?
Of the 599 views when I awoke this morning, 306 were “Home Page/Archives,” and I noticed that a lot of the posts viewed were older ones. Only 60 of the views were of the three posts that I had scheduled to be published overnight.
I checked my Spam and Trash folder and there were a few posts in each, which all appeared to be legitimate spam and trash comments.
So either my blog has been hacked or there is yet another glitch in WordPress, this one dealing with how it tracks blog visits.
Is anyone else having an unusually high number of views showing up in your stats page today?
The lamp on the bedside table was always on. The bed was always made except when Donna was sleeping in it. Her room was tidy. She tried to keep it looking like it could have belonged to any normal girl her age.
But Donna wasn’t the living the life of a normal girl, nor was her room even close to a normal room. She had a few books to read, a landline telephone that wasn’t connected, and a cellphone with no SIM card or WiFi access. No TV, radio, or clock. Donna was never sure what time it was. The black curtains, where a window should have been, concealed nothing but a blank wall. A small, windowless bathroom was attached to the room. The only door to the room was locked from the outside.
Donna couldn’t remember how long she’d been locked in the room. Weeks? Months? She didn’t know. Twice a day he’d bring in food. Once a week he’d have his way with her. Every other week he’d bring in fresh towels, clean bed linens, and laundered clothing.
This was her world now, at least until she could figure out a way to end it.
Written for Susan Spaulding’s Sunday Photo Fiction prompt.
Ramesh had spent months perfecting his flowering plants, using just the right kind of soil and adding the best nutrients and fertilizers. Best of all, he had timed it just perfectly. His plants were magnificent and he was sure everyone would marvel at his skills.
Unfortunately, on the day of the grand bazaar, Ramesh was running significantly late. He had hoped to arrive early enough to get a prime spot to display his plants. But by the time he got there, the only place left was next to a wall far from the center.
And if that wasn’t bad enough, the only chair he could find was one that looked as if it belonged in a kindergarten classroom.
A patient man, Ramesh sat in the tiny chair, smiling as if it was perfectly normal and acceptable.
In the end, though, he got his reward, earning the coveted blue ribbon prize for his plants and selling each and every one.
Overall, it was a fine day for Ramesh.
Written for this week’s Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers from Princess Joy.