Here’s week two of my #vss365 for you all to enjoy! Let me know if you think any would be good for poems or ‘actual’ short stories.
Prompt words are denoted by the #.
April 23rd
Clothes ripped beneath #vehement hands, fueled by the need to touch skin. Patience was a virtue, but neither one claimed it in this lustful moment. “I need you now,” he whispered to his lover. Their naked bodies stuck together, desperation in the sweat that covered them.
April 24th
The needle slipped through small holes, thread in its grasp, and the stitches came to life. This is a #vapid task if ever there was one, she mused, glancing about the room to the window. The sun summoned her to play in the trees, forsake the arts of a woman. If only…
April 25th
Noise was nothing to the #volcano, only a reminder of life. It sat with hard earned patience as plants tried to reclaim it, calm it.
Footsteps marred its glory in unwanted paths, and voices taunted it with their disregard.
The time has come, it thought and ash rained.
April 26th
The choices forced her to #vacillate between them, like a swing swaying in the wind. I can’t even be considering giving up on writing, she mused, a frown upon her rosy lips. As if the sky had chosen for her, a torn out page of a book flew past her. She picked up the pen.
April 27th
The weather was cool, misty, and welcome, perfect for relaxing. Sparse clouds blocked the sun now and then, letting them enjoy the water beneath the dock. Toes dangled, teasing the water, and fish swam deep below the surface. Now this is a #vacation, they smiled.
April 28th
The victim’s blood coated the walls like a soft waterfall. Scouring the room, the killer searched out every potential #vestige of evidence, until she was certain no trace of her remained. Sirens were heard in the distance, and urged her to run. There was no time left.
April 29th
#Victory knows no equal for it rains glory and success from the clouds. Bath in its splendour for its temptation touches all, and bids all to hold it close. Clutched to the breast, victory is a lover like no other. Enjoy its kiss for it fades all too quickly in a world of greed.
Black fabric filled her sight
Gold stars in the form of
Constellations
covered the material.
Images of creatures, the Zodiac,
danced across in a royal blue.
Her skin was ivory against it
Her eyes bluer than norm
And she knew one word,
A rare word,
to describe herself.
Beautiful.
I have to ask this of my followers, because I stand unsure of it myself. There are plenty of books and poems out there that deal with sensitive topics. Is there a line we don’t cross when ti comes to this? (This is my trigger warning for this post.)
The reason I ask is, I found a prompt about writing your final thoughts as you fall to your inevitable doom. This prompted me to write about suicide. It is dark and taboo thing to some people, if ’13 Reasons Why’ is any indication.
On Prose, I shared the poem with a trigger warning at the top. As someone who struggles with suicidal thoughts as a result of mental illnesses, I recognize the need for that trigger warning. Most of the time, I am fine to read or watch about such things, but if I am down, it is a recipe for disaster.
So I guess my real question is, how do you decide to share something like that? Should it offer something to somebody?
I feel my poem might offer some insight into how someone thinking about suicide might feel, but I don’t want to trigger anybody either.
Here it is, below. I really am curious as to how people feel writing about these kind of things.
One Regret
I have betrayed myself
Again.
Forsaken my goals
Again.
Keep writing, my heart whispers
Onward, evermore.
Achieve the dream of your soul
Onward, evermore.
Yet doubt like vines grasp my mind
Crippling will.
Holds my fingers still on the keyboard
Crippling will.
The light comes out another day
I will wait.
Fights my darkness from all sides
I will wait.
As promised, here are my #vss365(s) for the week. It isn’t quite a full seven days, but I want to make a habit of posting them on Mondays.
I have enjoyed the prompts so far, and toyed with themes of nature, love, comedy, and death. It will be interesting to see where the prompts continue to take me. I’ve enjoyed the challenge thus far, after all!
The prompt words are in bold letters, and I would love to see some Very Short Stories of your own! Also, if you want to see any of this in a poem or short story let me know!
Anyways, here they are!
April 17th
The #veneer covered the coarseness of the room, calming it into a beauty, but she could only hate it. It is a mask, a facade, she thought as her eyes longed for the rugged stone and rough wood beneath it. “Why must we hide the beauty of truth?”
April 18th
This Love was poison, slithering through the veins like a snake until it found the heart. Latching on with a bite, the #venom burned with need and longing, forsaking everything for the One. A thoughtless victim to Love’s cruel whims. But it felt so damn good.
April 19th
Burgers sizzled on the grill of the bbq, to the left of the wooden deck. Chatter filled the air, mingled with laughter, and tummies growled beneath the noise. “Hey!” the people greeted the new guest, rose to give hugs. “Burgers?” she asked, “But I’m #vegan.”
April 20th
Mist filtered off the lake in swaths, hiding the calm water. Dew clung to the green blades of grass, and birds called from the leaf burdened trees. Each morning, blooming flowers greeted the sun as it lifted nature’s #veil on the world. All while I sipped tea on my deck.
April 21st
The house was caked in filth. Dust on every surface. Grime on all the furniture. Not one wanted to clean the bathroom. The kitchen is where the downfall of the owner could be found. Copious amounts of empty liquer bottles killed the small space. His #vice had killed him.
April 22nd
The #vague memories of her past tugged on the corners of her mind. Images flashed before her eyes like still shots, and taunted her with silence. A puzzle of color, and her world was shades of grey. Dreary rain tapped at the windows. She could only move forward now.
Warmth tingled through her skin,
Kissing porcelain with fiery lips.
The risk of burning was worth it.
Lemonade forced a pucker within sips.
Wind swirled, teasing the trees,
And Branches danced with the rays of light.
The spread towel soft against bare back,
She wished to keep at bay the night.
Stilled as stone, she lay exposed.
No clouds fluttered across the skies.
Birds sang a reckless tune,
And she let go the softest of sighs.
She stood behind the bathroom sink,
holding wet pants in her hand.
They all laughed.
Writing has always been a passion of mine. It may have been forgotten for spans of time, but I have enjoyed it since I was a child. While it is a hard thing to do, you can only improve, right?
So, in an attempt to improve my craft, I am going to start tweeting a #vss365 every day.
For those of you not sure what that means, vss stands for Very Short Story (the length of a tweet) and 365 means to do every day in a year. I am sure there will be times when I am unable to complete the task, but I am making the attempt.
But, instead of inundating my followers and readers everyday with a new one, I am going to post them once a week. They will be dated and I will leave the prompt word with # to indicate it.
Since Wednesday is an odd date to start, I am going to share today’s attempt (and my first). Afterwards, I hope to do it every Monday.
Here’s today’s:
The #veneer covered the coarseness of the room, calming it into a beauty, but she could only hate it. It is a mask, a facade, she thought as her eyes longed for the rugged stone and rough wood beneath it. “Why must we hide the beauty of truth?”
Twitter: @KEMwriting
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