Very Short Stories, Week 24

I missed the weekend prompts for my posts this week so there a bit short. Hope you don’t mind!

 

September 24th

#Fire licked across the stacked logs, surrounded by placed brick. It grew until it crackled and sparked and its flames reached for the starry night sky. She sat with her husband on folding lawn chairs. No words passed between them as the heat warmed them.

 

September 25th

She wrapped the #sinew around the willow twigs that formed a circle. It required a soft touch and yet force was needed too. She continued until the web was formed, decorated with beads the colour of rainbows. As she kissed her son’s head that night, she hung the dream catcher

 

September 26th

Night #consumes the day and she readies herself. Dressed in black, she lifts herself onto the window sill. Its tracks bite into her palms and she drops when it’s time. The two-storey fall is quick and she lands with a thud, rolling for cover. She draws in a deep breath.

 

September 27th

 

Stars twinkle in distant #universes, lighting skies above alien life. Through telescopes, gazes meet but remain unaware. Life continues its circling dance. She dreams of unknown planets and longs to walk on foreign soil. Her imagination is a playground of planets.

 

September 28th

 

September 29th

 

September 30th

His bare feet were numb on the cold, wet road. The ragged clothes on his body were no shelter from the howling wind. There was no frown on this boy’s face. He wore a stubborn scowl like a shield and pressed forward. It was #inevitable in his mind that he’d find shelter.

BraveWrite, Week 3

September 19th

She fears its gentle hands have found her again. It whispers in her ear all the things she shouldn’t to hear. The truth long gone, her heart long since battered, she welcomes the cold. It hollows her out. Vacant of emotion. It’s too late when she names it. #Depression

 

September 20th

In the state of #jejune, we were all consumed by our fables. We were a unique center whose storms were unlike any other. The Gods aimed for us, small and insignificant though we KNEW different. But then our eyes opened. We wore others’ shoes and heeded our empathy.

 

September 21st

Their trunks, china cabinet, and every nook and cranny served as a #cache for their precious items. The house seemed willing to burst at the seams with their collections. It was a glorified storage unit filled with the sentimental. She worried it would go up in flames

 

September 22nd

The world is full of the #esoteric. It haunts the realms of math and science. It teases everyone. But it belongs to the artists most of all. The ones who draw, paint, compose and write for themselves, hoping some will understand. They bare their hearts for acceptance.

 

September 23rd

Wanna know what I think? she asked all of a sudden.

What? His eyebrows raised above a curious gaze.

I think life is a marinade in which we all #marinate. It’s experiences, people, and choices are all the spices we added, She smiled and nudged him, Don’t you think?

 

September 24th

The clock chimed #twelve in the middle of the night and summoned the witch from her workings. Her feet bounced down the stairs, jostling the book she held in her arms.

Ah, there it is, she said while flipping through the aged pages. Clearing her throat, she began to recite.

 

September 25th

The abyss was #tempting, as always. It called to her in seductive whispers. It threaded its fingers into hers, holding her hand, pulling. Her shoulders drooped in defeat and matched the dark bags under her eyes. The image in the mirror wasn’t her so why continue?

Sultry Succubus

 

Her eyes feast
on wanton flesh
and passion’s flames
flicker like bonfires.
in her sultry gaze
He saunters forward
confidence oozing
from his naked skin
It pulls her in
like gravity
and begs her to feed
on him
of him
until he runs dry.

She’s staring into empty eyes
and yet the thirst
still thrives
Time to find another
and dine
again.

Fire’s Vengeance

Gas covered the wood
Its smell filthy in the air
And yet it welcomed Fire.
Strike a match, sulfur’s touch,
Floated through the sky.
 
Flames grew, running
Through predetermined paths
Climbing the wooden trellis
Amidst the clematis screams.
 
Its violent touch
Melted all in its path.
Plastic
Metal
And
Memories.
 
Burned away the evil
Hidden in this
Trinket filled home.
 
Smoke blocked windows
Yet the sights were clearer.
 
Fire clambered up the stairs
Followed the smell of alcohol
Like
a
Bloodhound.
 
The drunken shouts
Were masculine
As his victims urged Fire on
Imagining its red tongue
Licking his ankles,
Shredding his face.
 
Suffocating on emptiness
The man met his demise.
House turned to coal with him.
 
Fire’s Embers waited for the words
Before departing.
 
“Good Job.”

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.

Fire’s Future

All flames burn down to ashes,
Left unattended, abandoned.
Much like gardens left to weeds,
And sparse rain falls.
 
Looking at my fire,
It weakens, only to grow again.
 
The wood I carry,
My dreams, my hopes, my desires,
But I carry my failures,
And my shortcomings, too.
If I burn only for a future,
What point was the past?
 
Learn from the letdowns,
And burn brighter for it.
 
The phoenix I hold inside,
Might die with the cruel waves of time.
It has come close before,
But still, I stroke it’s soft feathers,
And step forward into the night.
I will make my own sunshine,
My own fair weather days.
 
Until then, I prod the wood on fire,
And add fuel to its crimson flames.