Posted in friday fictioneers

Friday Fictioneers – Lips So Blue

I saw the sign. I heard her small voice say, “we should turn back.”

Jermaine, I chastised, always too sure of yourself.

The sky sure is blue from here. Small clouds, formed into puffs of slight dog fur, float by casting their shadows among the scattered glass.

If I could speak … a thousand things I know I should say.

An impromptu apology to my momma, for what I don’t know.

Maybe all the years of grief … maybe all the years to come.

Beside me her eyes stare like glass, reflecting rolling hills and jagged cliffs.

Her lips are so blue.

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PHOTO PROMPT © Björn Rudberg

Many thanks to the wonderful Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for rounding up Friday Fictioneers

 

 

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.