Posted in Writer Life

Writing Goal

One of my goals for this year is to put together another book. I’ve had a thought for a while that it would be cool to write a book with several micro fiction or vignette type pieces around a central theme or character or event.

Starting in Feb/end of Jan I’m going to try and write 1 piece a week, which after writing practically nothing last year will be a challenge.

I’ve read books like this and plan to revisit those too. What books have you read that were comprised of smaller stories centered around one event, character, etc?

I’m also excited to actually put together a book again. When I released my poetry book in 2020 it was very much an experiment for me. I picked the pieces, composed them in a way that felt good (but may not have actually flowed well), designed the cover … It was fun. I want to continue learning about that part of the process this year.

I hope you’re all doing well in this unending insanity we call life.

Posted in stream of consciousness

The Art of Languishing

I’m not just tired

My bones are melting away

Reclaimed by the universe

Ground into stardust and debris

My skin shrinks away in fear

Small fissures collapsing in on one another 

Growing caverns in the spaces I used to love

Life pooling among the rocks

A sweet elixir burning through my soul

I wanted to become

Without realizing what it meant

So no, I’m not just tired

I’m coming apart at every thread

Posted in stream of consciousness

Then What?

Though memories of childhood
Often elude my grasp
I remember moments
And words muttered
Which were never kind
Or instilling those things needed
To exist beyond their grasp
It occurs to me
Every now and then
This is why I thought life
Beyond
Was worthy of nothing
Maybe death
But then what?
Said like a snake slithering
Escaping the stomping feet of the world
Then what?
A place in what lies beyond
Floating in darkness that swallows all
Then what?
Nothingness is crushing
Exhausting
To swim forever
Wishing you’d come upon a shore
But then
I chose to exist
Outside those words
Seemed the better alternative

Posted in stream of consciousness

Mental Wanderings

My mind is wandering

Sinking in the sand

Riding cresting waves

Dappled light clearing the way

Cutting through

Water heavy with salt

We can’t help but float away

When will we know we’re lost

Where the moon rests on the coast

A horizon ever pulling back

Tempting our dreams

Foaming with life

Treading thick seams

How will we know

Posted in flash fiction

Ghost Hunting

Hattie almost missed the fraying brown clue blending into the brickwork.

Almost.

Matt would never let anyone miss it completely.

“It’s a clue!” He howled as he dropped to his belly and slithered towards the string. “Hattie. Hattie. Look. They were here.”

“I don’t see anything Matt.” He groaned and lifted the string between clenched knuckles.

“Right here. They were here.”

“Who?”

“The ghosts! Hattie! Did you forget what we were doing today?”

“I guess so Matt.”

“Ghosts. Ghost hunting. The email invite was clear.”

Hattie gazed at the sunset. Why were the cute ones always so weird?

Word Count: 98
For Friday Fictioneers (I’m getting better at this!)
Photo credit: © CEAyr

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 flash fiction

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.