Young Nightmare

Smoke rose in pillars from the field

Fires blasted the soldiers with heat

Sweat dripped down their brows already

Gunfire was heard in the distance

as were the pained screams of dying men

The smell of copper field the air

before the stench of burning flesh joined it

Time dragged for the victims of battle

Commanding shouts led men to fight

Swords clashed and dirks appeared

hoping to kill before another shot fired

 

The mix of sounds left the young boy horrified

He gagged as he struggled to find his commander

The faces of friend and foe both fierce and unwelcoming

Clutching the dagger to his heart

his feet stuck in the bog

He fell, left to crawl amongst the bodies

and pray not to be trampled

 

His eyes met the fear filled gaze of an enemy warrior

A gunshot echoed above them and he screamed

sinking the black blade into the other man’s heart

His hands shook, leaving it embedded

And he rose

 

The commander found him as the others retreated

Paralyzed, he was lifted onto the steed

He’d never felt so tired

It clung to his limbs like wet clothing,

pulling, pulling, pulling

until he sunk beneath its surface

The panted breaths of the horse were all he heard.

 

Cancer

I

Hate

Cancer.

Its hand creep and crawl

like warped vines.

Its touch tarnishes and taints

like nails on a chalkboard.

Vile like stomach bile,

Its hold on another one

of those I love.

Is there anything

it won’t take?

Cancer’s game is destruction.

Barbed wire around organs

constricted and stabbed

for working.

Lungs riddled with it.

Every breath a growing burn.

I yearn to ease his pain

and pray peace

finds him in sleep.

Love Letters

‘I miss you, my pet
like a flower misses the day
and diminishes in the moon’s rays.’
 
I miss you, my dear
like a song misses its melody
and thrives only when it’s set free.’
 
I miss you, my love
like a candle misses its flame
and burns brightest when it’s claimed.’
 
‘Your words send my heart to tears
and renew unspoken fears.
I miss you, too.’

Very Short Stories, Week 13

Good morning! I’m glad I survived another week of impromptu problems.

Friday the 5th, I accidentally triggered a massive clog in a branch line for our laundry and kitchen sinks. Friday the 12th, the problem was actually fixed after about $900 had been spent.

The week saw a great many anxiety attacks as I played phone tag with the plumbers, but now… I’m feeling a lot lighter in terms of mood.

However, my very short stories this week may have been affected by it all. Here’s hoping you manage to enjoy them anyways!

 

July 9th

#Beneath starry skies
Eyes divine the lies
Of an unkind mind.

Inner audience
Applaud a Godliness,
Destructive and callous.

Yet race time’s clock
Like a fired glock.
Dodge Death and decay.

Goals are our souls
Filling the holes
Of mortality’s game.

 

July 10th

The witch pulled back her dark curtains and watched the costumed children run from house to house. Lips curled in a snarl at the sight of green skin and a wart under the pointy, black hat. Holding an abalone shell, she meditated.

‘How I hate #trick or treating.’

 

July 11th

#Fury’s hands tightened around her throat. Fingers dug into soft flesh, yielding, and the faint pulse vibrated through its arm. Its black eyes watched tears well in her dying gaze, unempathetic.

Her last breath was a mumbled sorry, guilty.

Her last sight, Hellish Fire.

 

July 12th

The #tunnel curled, spiraling downwards inside the Earth, and they followed its steep descent. Footsteps echoed louder than the hushed whispers of the ragged group. Their lights caused the coloured quartz to glow, a stunning rainbow that faded in the depths of the rock.

 

July 13th

‘There’s #precious little time in the day,’ she whispered into his ear and roused him.

‘What’d you say?’

‘I said get up!’ she said markedly louder against his face, ‘We have dinner plans with my parents, remember?’

Finally sitting, he muttered, ‘But it’s nap time…’

 

July 14th

The sun’s rays shone upon the #boy’s neck, burning skin slow as a snail. Sweat beaded, fell, and formed again; the taste of salt strong on his tongue. Calloused feet carried his bony body forward down the asphalt road. Its stinging heat unfelt by worn soles.

 

July 15th

A #torrent of rain ripped through the roof. She woke to its cold water pounding down on her and soaking the confines of her room. Frantic, she rushed about, collecting memories in the form of photos and figurines.

She abandoned them when the flooding reached her knees.