Posted in Word Prompt

Capsizing Breath (Repost)

Your absence sucks the warmth from these sheets,

Curling between my thigh’s, roping around my fingers

Still trembling and gasping

From gentle tugs and rasping bites

Along edges of bone and light

I am frozen on capsizing breath

Of the last words we said

While these sheets of your sighs,

Of our eyes

Forever taking one another in,

Hold me hostage, wrapping around my legs, binding my wrists,

Against the warmth you float away with.

The word of the day when I posted originally was vague.

Posted in Word Prompt

Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays!

First, I want to check in on readers from Indonesia or with family/friends in Indonesia. Is everybody ok?

Second, it’s Christmas Eve! Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays! I hope everyone has been enjoying the holiday season.

I’ve taken a longer break than I meant to but I’ve been working on my thesis which has taken over my mind for a bit.

Posted in flash fiction

Glitch

This is a piece of a draft … but I feel like it’s been so long since I’ve really been able to come up with anything.

It started with the email screen.

“What … What do you … Do you want?” It spluttered through stalled clicks and flashing screens.

It’s happening again.

Without another word I scooped my jacket from it’s resting place and headed towards the door. A pair of heels clicked quickly behind me.

“Hi, where are you going?”

Fuck. “Look, something’s come up. I just have to go.” The lights in the hall flashed as the rain started pouring over the asphalt outside. “I really just have to go.”

The heels clicked impatiently. “Fine. I hope you feel better.”

The rain pounded against the leaves, beating them from branches and sending them spiraling through the wind. Their colors changed rapidly, red, orange, brown, red again, as they jerked from one spot to another.

No choice. I broke from the safety of the covered patio to race raindrops to my car.

They won of course. They always win.

I started the count down in my head.

10 minutes. 5 to get home. 5 to not mess this up.

The engine roared to life, giving only minor feedback.

Don’t do it old girl, don’t give in.

As we barreled through the wide avenues traffic flashed in and out of view. How I wished I could simply move through them but I learned some time ago: these obstacles are real.

I couldn’t be sure when the mainframe gained that sophistication. 

Anything to stop me. You should know by now … I shook my head as the traffic light sputtered then blinked into darkness. 

The sideways rain parted for a matter of seconds to reveal a clear path ahead.

Is it possible? I have help?

There was no time to wonder. I laid on the horn, a lame duck noise barely enough to warn off the oncoming wind escaped, but it worked. I could speed ahead.

The obstacles were of course meant to slow me down. Anything to keep me from saving the world again.

Not this time. Not anytime.

My foot fell heavy on the gas, confident in my path. They may slow the journey but they still would not win.

 

I made it to base with mere seconds to spare.

Part B must begin immediately!

The door hinges let out their tell-tale squeal as I hurried through.

“I understand. I think he just came in.”

No!

I could just see the reflection of my old confidant, my partner, strolling the rooms. 

Is it possible? She’s been compromised? 

My stomach sank at the thought of what would inevitably come next. There was no way to maintain our partnership if she was influenced by the mainframe. 

Flashes of light tore across the skyline. 

There’s no time! I have to go!

“Josh? Is that you?”

I scrambled from my hiding spot, lurching down the long darkened hallway.

 

“Jesus.” Lydia tapped the psychiatrists number into her cell. 

“Hi, Dr. Smith, it’s Lydia. Yeah, he’s home now … No, he hasn’t said anything. In fact, he hid. Mmhm. Then he, like spider monkey ran down the hall. Now he’s holed up in the office banging away on the computer.”

Lydia circled the kitchen looking for anything her husband may have dropped. 

“I don’t think he has anything and I don’t think he was hiding anything.”

Finally her eyes fell to a full bottle of pills on the counter.

“It’s done!” Josh emerged from the office, hands in the air but as his gaze fell on Lydia his face contorted in rage. 

“You … You’ve become a glitch!” Her husband jabbed her shoulder. “You’ll just disappear like the rest, it’s what glitches do.” His low growl echoed off the kitchen walls then he was gone, leaving the walls shaking from the force of the door slamming shut. 


Posted in friday fictioneers

Friday Fictioneers – Counting Lighters

This here’s a true story.

The moment I realized what rock bottom looked like as I barreled from above.

And tried to hit the brakes but just wasn’t strong enough.

I wasted drunken moments counting lighters scattered around, at least ten collected in my dead flower jar.

Then the music stopped and that moment of eerie silence …

Right before girls screaming and wild stampeding.

“There’s a boy on the bedroom floor. There’s a boy dying through that door.”

In my apartment.

High on my drugs.

Drunk on my liquor.

I wasted moments counting lighters … I spent seconds wishing on stars.

coffee-table-prior
PHOTO PROMPT © Yvette Prior

Word Count: 100

Many thanks as always to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields.

I honestly do not know if this will work in 100 words, I like it but I also know it seems kind of abstract. 

Posted in friday fictioneers

Friday Fictioneers – At Last

Fat raindrops rolled down the window pane accompanied by the ever present haze of city living. Ghosts of years gone by stood silently silhouetted against a dark, starless sky.

Lights from the spire sprinkled to life in a dazzling glaze. A gasp caught in her throat. The sign she had been waiting for.

Her Prince Charming casting a wide arching call for her to come.

At last.

She shoved the suitcase closed around three stuffed animals and a bag of Cheetos.

Fading photos, her momentos of a life forgotten, would have to stay behind.

The nurses quietly blocked her door.

nyc-jill-wisoffPHOTO PROMPT ©Jill Wisoff


 

A special thanks to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for wrangling in Friday Fictioneers.

I did a few of these then stopped for several weeks due to my work load (at my actual job and my grad school work). Luckily I’ve found myself with a slight bit of breathing room … or the possibility of killing men just watch them die if I didn’t get a chance to space out soon … So here I am.

Posted in stream of consciousness

The Grave Robber’s Dress

Sunday Funday … or something like that

Prompt – Fabric

Music – City of the Sun on Spotify shuffle

July passed the light fabric between her thin fingers. Black with big brush stroke sunflowers, how odd.

The skirt flowed down from her grip, a dark waterfall with pops of yellow and brown to remind everyone that this wasn’t what it seemed.

It couldn’t be.

The young woman’s make up seemed to accent the point. Ruby red lips and a smoky eye, the oddity continues.

Her dirty blonde hair was carefully styled in robust curls which tumbled from her crown just brushing the straps of the sundress.

Perhaps the most perplexing part to July were the shoes. Even in heaven she’ll be tripping over those heels …

They were adorable though, a dark gunmetal gray laid with some kind of iridiscent shimmer.

Not too fancy … But greatly helped by the presence of gray bangles and meteorite necklace on her fragile extremities.

“July.” Her partner’s rough voice sent a shock up her spine. “Come on.”

“I want this.” Behind her the team of two other men sighed.

“What?” Red leaned over her shoulder. “You want what? The girl?”

“The dress …” July let her glance linger over the gentle girl. “I want the whole outfit.”

Red pinched the bridge of his nose and his grumbled. “We got what we came for, leave Jane Doe clothed.”

“Just take a picture then get on Amazon like a normal person.” August chimed in.

“He’s got a point. Boss man will want to know why we took longer than necessary and I don’t want to explain how July wanted to shop.”

With a stomp of her covered converse and a sigh July pulled out a phone. “Fine.”


Time technically ended as I was typing “linger over” but I wasn’t done yet so I broke my own rule. 

Posted in stream of consciousness

Smudged Charcoal Memories

Stream of Consciousness Writing Attempt – Wordpress Daily Prompt – Candid

Music: Alberto Giurioli – once again I’ve found myself just shuffling on Spotify, no specific  songs or albums

Candid.

I have photos in my mind, candid pictures, frozen in time.

Of you, me, the world as it wishes it could be … the way it is and the way it could.

Like rough charcoal sketches, outlining your jaw

Tracing your lips and infecting everything we’ve become.

Conversations are easy, expressions in stars and beauty …

Total comfort we take for granted.

And yet here we are, with candid pictures but nothing solid.

Smudged charcoal memories

Scenes were there, we know, but we’re always just missing the point.

Always just grasping the cusp of the greater things

Only to find ….

We were never meant for the better side

So we cling to something more, hoping, praying, waiting …

We hide beneath silence and sideways glances

While we dangle from the precipice

Fuzzy charcoal portraits and blurry night walking pictures

With broken smiles and tear stained eyes

Are all we left behind but not all that’s left to find?

How long can you hold on? Hold out?

Close your eyes

10 minutes up.

 

Posted in Word Prompt

Threads of Gold

I want to lie between the lines.
To feel the words moving and sinking,
Gnashing and gnawing at the chains binding them so.
I want to sink into the crevices between the melodies,
The breaths between the chords.
To feel the rhythms beating and crashing,
Tearing and thrashing at the ropes holding them down.
I would inhale every heartbroken word.
Let it sink into my skin,
A permanent tattoo of something
Too strong to break yet too fragile to hold.
Something nurtured in the dark
Until it becomes too bold.
Let the waves crash over me,
Stripping my spirit clean.
Sew my pieces with your song,
Delicate threads of gold.


The Perfectly Imperfect Bunch

Posted in Word Prompt

Lilies on the Floor

I can’t stop quaking
My hands are shaking.
There’s glass everywhere,
Blood on the floor,
Smeared over the door.
Oh god,
What have we done here?
Lilies on the floor.
Purple and blue,
Like the bruises
Left on you,
And I’m ripping
Bone from tendon.
Tell them I’m sending
All of us on a one way
Track, no returning.
Because I can’t stop quaking.
My hands are shaking.
There’s flesh and bone everywhere.