Very Short Stories, Week 21

This past week has been tougher day by day. I feel stuck. I feel completely different. And the worst part? I have no idea how to change it.

I’m pushing through trying to stick to some routine and tackle things around the house, but I feel hollow about it all. My hope was writing more types of prompts would help, but it isn’t working so far.

Great segwey, eh? You’ll be seeing some #vsspoem posts once a week from now on and same with #BraveWrite. If I stick with it, who knows what might happen, right?

Anyways, here are my very short stories for the week without any further rambling.

 

September 3rd

Her #mysteries were caged in barbed wire. They surrounded her, welcomed her darkness. Whispered horrors and sordid images filled her every waking breath. And yet the Evil she held remained a secret. She wiped sweat from her brow and walked away from the newly dug hole.

 

September 4th

She chased the glowing #horizon

Its edge calling to her

She longed to free fall

into the abyss

Sink or swim

in a sea of words

 

Her fingers could craft

poems

short stories

novels

if given reign

 

And so she chased

the glowing #horizon

for a future it might hold

if she caught it

 

September 5th

Words of strange properties leapt from her lips as a soft whisper. Her magic danced in colourful swirls along the rocks she’d gathered. It caressed and curled about the stones like a lover. Before her gaze, they #crystallized, clear and crisp like an autumn day.

 

September 6th

The night put its arms around her, an old and welcome friend. Her radiant smile shone light upon the tides she taunted into play. In the black sky, she gossiped with the stars, twinkling by her side. And as the sun cast golden rays on the horizon, she waved hello to #daybreak.

 

September 7th

The #serendipity of it all, she determined, typing a response to a stranger’s message. And yet… he wasn’t a stranger. Her heart and soul knew he was meant for her like the sun and moon belonged to the sky. Eight years later, she still couldn’t pinpoint how she had known.

 

September 8th

#Comets blazed through the sky and diminished into nothing more than cosmic dust. From the comfort of her room, she chased their wandering trails with her eyes. They must live brilliant lives to be gone so quickly from existence, she mused. If only I could chart myself a course.

 

September 9th

The tree that grew in her backyard served as a reminder. #Souls have branches, roots. They reach, connect, support, and thrive with companionship. She couldn’t keep hers locked in a jar for fear of rejection or failure.

She had to open it. And she did. Her soul had wings now.

Cosmic Scale

A galaxy is held in her glowing gaze
Its cosmic realities dance
like ballerinas on a planetary stage
telling a tale in a glance.
but she’s a spy hunting down lies
Creating peace to balance
the scale of an unforgiving universe
caught up in its brilliance
It kills its inner angels for what?
To satisfy violence.

Very Short Stories, Week 10!

Late in the day, but my stories are here!

I’m sorry for the lack of blog posts on my part. I’m sorry for not reading others’ posts and commenting, too.

Time has run away from me, and I’m fighting to get it back under hand. Excuses have been its friend, leading me astray. I hope to turn a new leaf in the days to come (this time it should be a true promise).

I hope you enjoy my tales of the week and the prompts. Also, if you have tips on how to get back on track with a routine, I’m all ears!

 

June 18th

Galaxies away, a green marble similar to Earth spun around a star. Its waters hid beneath the ground, touched by colourful roots. Flowers and trees stretched in the light, and glowed like fireflies. They thrived. They made memories and guarded their #sentient home.

 

June 19th

Her feet stumbled across the cobblestone roads beneath dim street lights. A distant church bell chimed once in the night though she scarcely heard it. The lights flickered off in the #bistro she passed, and she banged on the windows. Bloody hand prints marred the glass.

 

June 20th

His #Embrace was to be held
By Love alone
To feel safe, secure
To feel passion’s touch.

His Embrace was the other half
Of a broken Heart
And it enveloped
But gave space
Like a practiced lover.

His Embrace was the truth
In its scolding form
And it was our life
Bound.

 

June 21st

Heat licked her brow and sweat formed, dripping down her face. The forge burned furiously in mid-July, warming her #iron to a glorious yellow. Tongs in hand, she wiped her face on her slick arm and pulled her piece from the heat.

Pressed to her anvil, she hammered away.

 

June 22nd

#Scars covered her body, caused by various things. Bug bites itched, cats and dogs that bit and scratched, burns, surgery.

Her fingers drifted across a faint yet raised area.

A scissors’ blade had left three lines, wielded by her own hand. But that was behind her.

 

June 23rd

The tempo pounded off the walls and set the #mood to dance. Bodies converged on the floor, writhing to an indistinct melody. Heels lay abandoned at the tables, bare feet emerged.

The music hit a fever pitch, strobe lights flashed viciously, and the bodies hit the floor.

 

June 24th

The #cosmic elements had aligned
in the lens of her telescope.
Black lace covered pale skin
A white candle in her hand.
Flames danced on the wick
under a scarlet sky.
Her feet padded the grass
and her spell teased the air.

Magick rushed to her touch
Willful and Eager.