I’ve Known This Season #WritePhoto

 

 

I’ve known this season.

Danced with dying dreams.

Watched bits of myself float away.

Sometimes I tried to hold on. Other times I watched those pieces fly from me in the autumn breeze.

Both were painful.

Both left me bare and vulnerable.

Yet I’ve survived. Grown stronger.

 

I don’t always change in my own time.

It could be another’s clock that ticks and clicks at me.

In crisp air, I show my true colors. 

What are they? What will the world think of them?

I wait, worry, wonder…

 

But the oak, anticipating winter, knows she will become more beautiful as she lets go. 

 

Here is my attempt at #writephoto, a weekly writing prompt for poetry/flash/short stories hosted by Sue Vincent

 

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Dressed to Kill

 

The fall of 1978 would be remembered for generations.

 

I loved the story of the princess woken by a handsome prince. Each year, on Halloween, I became that princess.

I walked alone, trick-or-treating, while groups of guys mocked my dress and made lewd comments. Girls threw rotten apples poisoned with hatred and intolerance.

Mrs. Halloran, who was always kind to me, held a bowl of candy but pulled me aside. She gave me a bright, red apple and a smile.

Our neighborhood lost 27 kids that year. Poisoned. All but the boy in the Snow White costume.

 

Flash Fiction Challenge over at Carrot Ranch

August 8 prompt: Poisoned Apple In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story with a poisoned apple.

 

 

Red Wine

 

She always added ice to red wine. Reds should be enjoyed at room temperature and I wasn’t shy about saying so. I guess I shouldn’t have picked on her for such a thing.

It annoyed me.

She’d chill a bottle of Chardonnay in the cooler and leave a Merlot on the counter. Why add ice?

She stirred the glass with her finger and I could hear sloshing and clinking. It grossed me out but I never said.

It was the sound of unhappiness. And that, too, annoyed me. At the gathering after her funeral, I ordered red wine, without ice.

 

Flash Fiction Challenge over at Carrot Ranch

May 23, prompt: Ice In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story without ice.

 

 

Playing with Trouble #Haiku

 

we play with friendship

romance blooms from ignorance

grief and sadness grow

 

 

beneath the willow

where we used to play now lives

unease, discomfort

 

 

playing with puzzles

pieces fit together then

now our edges worn

 

 

This week’s prompt is to write a poem with synonyms of the words ‘game’ & ‘trouble’ in it.

A small haiku-like contribution to Colleen’s Weekly Poetry Challenge. You can write any of the following: Haiku / Tanka / Haibun / Cinquain / Senryu. Check it out and challenge yourself to some poetry.

 

Here’s a fun, little haiku using the prompt words:

 

WordPress playing games

having trouble with comments

can’t enable them

 

Remembering the Moon

 

When I was little, I wanted to visit the moon.

My mother laughed. Not in that way the other mothers laughed at their kids. Their laughter sounded like chickadees or Christmas bells. And they looked at their sons and daughters, ruffling hair or kissing cheeks, as if to say, “Aren’t they cute?” My mother’s chuckling didn’t say, “Isn’t she cute?” It was a combination of dismissal and disappointment. I never knew how someone could make laughter sound so unpleasant.

My father explained the distance between the earth and the moon. He was “practical” and had no patience for dreamers. That is to say, he had no patience for me.

My grandparents said I was spoiled. Which had nothing to do with the moon, really, but they never missed a chance to say it.

My teacher smiled and told me about astronauts. Which is exactly the sort of person she was. I should have expected her to do something like that. Instead of asking more about traveling to the moon, I demanded to know why she was telling me this. Then I cried and asked if I could live with her and she got that look on her face like when she had to send someone to the principal’s office. She didn’t call on me for the rest of the year. I remember being young, wanting things I couldn’t have. I remember Ms. Haley. And I know she remembers me.

 

 

 

#BlogBattle is a monthly writing prompt for flash fiction/short stories hosted by Rachael Ritchey.

Join in. Write a story. Read the stories.

Prompt: Moon

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The Tent

 

Though officials took us in, their welcome was forced.

The meadow was dotted with makeshift dwellings which looked like heaven compared to what we’d endured to get here. Pa ruffled my hair, whispering that it was over. We were safe.

He was half right.

A woman with long, grey braids approached Pa, pointed to the edge of the meadow, patted his shoulder, and walked away. “What is it, Pa?” I followed his stare to a yellow tent.

“There’s not enough food here,” he pulled me close. “We’re in the lottery.”

”Are we staying in the yellow tent?”

“Let’s hope not.”

 

 

Flash Fiction Challenge over at Carrot Ranch

August 2, 2018 prompt: Yellow tent In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story that includes a yellow tent.

 

 

Cages #Haiku

 

 

Graceful lioness

Magnificent creature. Caught.

Caged. Paces to death

 

 

 

This week’s prompt is to write a poem with synonyms of the words ‘hurry’ & ‘last’ in it.

A small haiku-like contribution to Colleen’s Weekly Poetry Challenge. You can write any of the following: Haiku / Tanka / Haibun / Cinquain / Senryu. Check it out and challenge yourself to some poetry.

 

 

Turning comments off as I won’t be available to approve or reply. Just wanted to have a bit of fun with Colleen’s lovely challenge. 💕 

 

Enlightened #WritePhoto

 

 

I was alone.

My boots clicked on the stones. Ahead of me, a shape blurred and shifted. Behind me, another. But I didn’t look at either now. It wouldn’t change anything. They would still be there and I would still be alone.

The arch at the end of the walkway glowed with the promise of knowledge.

I wanted to run to it. I wanted to run from it.

With each step, I grew more uncertain. My thoughts a whirlpool.

Curious. Apathetic. Eager. Detached. Anxious. Calm.

Petrified.

I stopped. My body fought to escape its skin, pushing, pulling, stretching. Trapped, it grabbed my mind, twirling it like cotton candy, and tucked the feathered bits into a crevice I couldn’t access.

I straightened. Continued walking. Reached the arch directly after my first shadow and slightly before my second shadow.

We were alone.

And we were ready to step into the light.

 

 

 

My attempt at #writephoto, a weekly writing prompt for poetry/flash/short stories hosted by Sue Vincent

 

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Turning comments off as I won’t be available to approve or reply. Just wanted to write a little something for Sue’s wonderful writephoto prompt. It’s been too long. 💕 Be well, my friends. 

 

Beneath the Frosted Pines #Haiku

 

 

Slender shoots shiver

Wrapped in winter’s frozen soil

Waiting to blossom

 

 

 

This week’s prompt is to write a poem with synonyms of the words ‘green’ & ‘patience’ in it. (I think I took some liberties here…) 

A small haiku-like contribution to Colleen’s Weekly Poetry Challenge. You can write any of the following: Haiku / Tanka / Haibun / Cinquain / Senryu. Check it out and challenge yourself to some poetry.

 

 

Turning comments off as I won’t be available to approve or reply. Just wanted to have a bit of fun with Colleen’s lovely challenge. 💕 

 

Chaos in Black & White

 

We talk, words spinning around each other like flurries caught in a gust of wind.

Eventually, our thoughts drift down and settle on the ground in a blanket of confusion.

With an incredible vocal range, we sing a song of misunderstanding. High notes, encapsulated in love, float through the air. Low notes, heavy with meaning, cling to our faces and hair. They are a jumble of uncertainty.

His world, in black and white, frustrates me.

My world, in greens, yellows, and blues, frustrates him.

We never tried to understand.

Now we do.

Only to discover we are mutually colorblind.

 

 

 

Flash Fiction Challenge over at Carrot Ranch

February 1, 2018 prompt: Black and White In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story that features something black and white.