Posted in friday fictioneers

It Sounds Like Blue

The violinist swayed like smoke. The small crowd followed suit as he laid a spell over them with his dance. The beat of the small drum set vibrated through the ground just enough for the man to keep time along.

He squinted as the bow struck and slid across the strings while the violinists’ fingers moved devilishly quick. The young girl beside him slid a crumpled piece of paper into the palm of his hand.

“It sounds like blue, light not dark, like watching storm clouds or flying towards the stars with wind in your hair. It feels like love.”

music-roomPHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Word Count: 100

Thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields as always for wrangling in Friday Fictioneers.

Posted in Word Prompt

Cotton on the Breeze

Fabric

Picture book pages flip in the wind,
Like flimsy fabric ripping against the trees.
These memories fall victim,
Pictures of life we may never see again.
They fly from our fingers much too fast.
If I’m unable to grasp
The color of your eyes
Or gentle waves in your hair …
If your fingers slip from mine
Before I can feel them slide
Along my sides …
If these memories begin to evade,
Should they slide away like cotton in the breeze …
Let me tell you before they’re gone,
Just one more time.

Posted in Word Prompt

If Courage Grew On Trees

WordPress Daily Prompt – Courage

If courage grew on trees
I imagine it’d be a fruit;
Weird and lopsided,
Oddly colored and dented
With thick, bumpy, razor hide.
If courage grew on trees
I imagine no one would want it,
Ugly as it would be,
Until you break past the
Paper cut spirits and
Swallow fear like lead.
Only then do you realize
How sweet that fruit could be.


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Posted in Word Prompt

Did You See Those Fireworks

Welcome to 2018! That feels weird to write, where has time gone …

WordPress Daily Prompt – Conversation

The afternoon is beginning to slip away when I find myself sitting outside with you while you smoke.

Years of paranoia have taken root. I’ve spent much of our time frequently checking my surroundings, expecting my father, or someone he’s sent, to pop out at any moment and ruin everything.

You’ve been patient. You’ve held my hand while we’ve talked and spent those few precious moments together.

I watch you, next to me, staring out into the parking lot from our perch by some god awful landscaping.

“Why wouldn’t you kiss me?” It’s a simple enough question but I shrug. I want to, with every fiber of my being I do, but there’s a fear that’s deep rooted. If my father found out I was here with you …

“There were just a lot of people in there.” I’m still just a girl who struggles to explain and that seems like the safest answer. You let your cigarette dangle from the side of your mouth. An idea slither’s into my mind. As playful as I can I lean towards you and grab at it.

You were always more straightforward than I. “What are you doing? Stop.” As quickly as the playful game to get a kiss came, it’s gone, now replaced with a sinking feeling I’m all too familiar with.

“I’m sorry.” I whisper. “I just wanted a kiss.” If there’s frustration in your eyes I miss it. Instead you move closer to me.

“Oh yeah? Ok. Well, here, you can take it.” You lean in more, offering to play my silly little girl game. I hesitate only for a second before grabbing the cigarette.

Suddenly your lips are on mine. It steals my breath away, is this what a kiss is supposed to feel like? My heart shudders and the darkness behind my closed eyes erupts in color. You rest your hand gently against my cheek, letting your fingers wrap in my hair. I may be young still but I’m certain this is special.

In that moment every ounce of fear and uncertainty fades. There’s no one but us and I have no worries that we’ll be caught. In that moment I’m certain you’d protect me. It feels right, like this is exactly where I’m supposed to be; in this moment with you.

Somehow I’ve managed to keep ahold of the cigarette and as our lips finally part you slip your hand into mine and take it back.

For a second we stare at each other, electrified.

“Did you see those fireworks?” You ask quietly.


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Posted in Word Prompt

Ode to Black

I couldn’t resist, this is my calling. The whole reason I started writing has lead to this point. Also, Nine Inch Nails is more Industrial lite, I’m aware. I could link Skinny Puppy or Ministry but I don’t want to scare any of my followers away.

WordPress Daily Prompt – Black

“Head like a hole. Black as your soul …”

I like the color black.
I wear it frequently.
All my dresses are black,
Except for that one red one.
My shoes too,
Except that pair of brown boots
Or those dark blue ones.
When I was in high school,
I wore black eye make up
But I didn’t hang out with the goth kids.
The real depressed girl
Who actually listened to industrial
And not Marilyn Manson
Was too goth for them.
I like my coffee black,
With just a little bit of cream.
I like my rebels black
With their motorcycle screams.
I like my nails
About nine inches long
And now you have
To start at the beginning of the song.

 

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Posted in Word Prompt

Run

I started working on something for the daily prompt – identity but it ended up being something I really liked and wanted to work on more, so it’s not getting posted today. Here’s a piece of something else instead.

I ran so far,
I lost sight of the horizon.
The blue of the faded sky,
Blended into the black
Of an unreachable future.
And my breath formed clouds,
Of toxic beauty against,
Golden maroon sunsets.

I ran so far,
My problems didn’t have to move,
To keep up with me.
They waited patiently,
At the finish line for me to cross.
And my sweat formed black puddles,
Of deadly reflection on the ground
Against the darkness disguised as use.


Go see what’s new over at The Perfectly Imperfect Bunch, we’re writing legends, tales and stories this week