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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.

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Heaven’s Time

Chest constricts

expands

ripping my broken

heart.

I can only imagine

your suffering.

Rushed breaths

fill the quiet.

Your body bounces

with the struggle.

Your ribs rise and fall

like a dying empire.

Your heart races

against a clock

wound against you.

Your brothers wait

for you in a pain free

Heaven

and I’ll see you there

in

time.

Dissolve

Wails rip my throat

raw with despair

My heart now shards

broken pieces

tearing

free in force

to make me feel

every

single

tear.

His cold body in my arms

It’s a reminder

of a bright light

snuffed out.

His flame flickers

weaker and weaker

gone like the wind

in an instance.

I long to hear his

heart beat like a drum

but its silence is a

deafening blow

and I dissolve into the pain

of his absence.

#PicturePoetryPrompt: Gun Control

From North of the border,
I watch my American friends
suffer time and again.
A vicious cycle repeating.

Bullets fired from GUNS
are worth more than
LIVES
I hear again and again.

And yet there’s a growing chorus
Of voices.
Young
Old
Female
Male
Gay
Straight
Black
White.

They scream for CONTROL
United against a bigger threat.
They don’t want to hide
Afraid and alone
from angry people who take their rage
like tidal waves
and crash into innocents.

They want change.
Not to take all the GUNS away
But to restrict the types
Create stiffer rules.
What threat is this
to your freedoms,
My GUN owning friends?

They should be free
to feel SAFE
In a Grocery store
In a School
At a Concert
At a Hospital
At a Synagogue
At a Church

ANYWHERE.

But the NRA has friends
who view CONTROL
as an evil worse than plague
WHICH IT’S NOT.
When did your fellow Americans’ LIVES
come to mean so little?

I see this on my screens
In our papers.
As a Canadian,
I’m thankful for our GUN CONTROL.
I feel SAFE.
If only the change Americans need
would come on swift wings.
I wish you all could feel SAFE
On every day’s journeys.

You see,
I think no man, woman or child
should be afraid to leave their home
for fear of flying bullets
shot from vicious GUNS
hunting them down.

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.’

Despite The Fear And Hate

{Below awaits my attempt at the Quatern style poem. Hope you enjoy!)

 

Stand tall despite the fear and hate

And drop their sharp blades from your hands

Pick up the pen, and write again

Fill the pages with scrolling lines

 

Work with the light of day and night

Stand tall despite the fear and hate

Quiet the doubts swirling inside

Break free the bars that cage your might

 

Your tale needs telling, use your voice

Others will listen, given the choice

Stand tall despite the fear and hate

Use it to fuel your writing craze

 

It is a daunting task you’ve set

One many will never have met

Success awaits the effort, and

Stand tall despite the fear and hate

Time To Play!

I can’t believe how much I have done since 5 am! Cleaned my house from top to bottom (I will admit to tidying last night), and I shoveled my driveway and my neighbour’s. Now, I have time to play!

My sister asked me if she could come over and hang out for a little bit and I obviously agreed (part of why I felt the need to clean). She will be here around 11:30am(ish) after an interview for a new job. I’ll be playing hostess until about 2:30pm when I will take her to school and pick her up at 5:30pm.

As I have said in previous posts, I am not someone with a lot (or any) friends. I’d love that to change, but as it stands, my family and husband is all I got. Thus I love the fact my sister reached out to me. There has always been an invitation to message her and hang, but with her in university, I feel guilty stealing any of her time. She has friends and a boyfriend (who seems to be good for her), and those are who she spends her free time with when not studying or working weekends.

Since I spend 80% of my time alone, it will be nice to have some fun talk time! I will have to keep from starting arguments though. It’s my curse how easy I can start a fight and without ever meaning to. I’m hoping she’ll enjoy the time away from our parents’ place and the argument zone it can be from time to time.

This is probably the best part of being an older sibling. I get to provide a (kind of) safe place away from home. We all have gone through those times where we wanted nothing more than to run away from our parents. It doesn’t always have anything to do with them and their treatment of us; just a need for free space and independence.

Anyways I’m going to take a boiling hot shower, scrub myself clean, and relax until she gets here! Take care of yourselves!

 

August 2017

It was a big day
But in a little way.
The end of my two weeks
Which was less than bleak.
I left that job
Feeling more than just a glob.
Unsure of what lay ahead
Yet I was not filled with dread.
Instead I felt hope anew
My footsteps led me far and true.
I stumbled upon my purpose,
And it was time to get down to business.
 
I had had a dream,
Filled with danger and fun.
I told my husband, my mother,
And they were quite stunned.
It spun into an idea
A book written by me,
In which a girl named Vivian
Fought hard just to be free.
 
I am still on that adventure,
Editting, revising Vivian’s tale.
It consumed me through and through,
And I refuse to fail.

2019: My Year of Change

It is the start of a new year, and I felt I should share some things. Make myself accountable to myself and the eyes of others.

To start with, I shared my book with a few individuals, and I am waiting on one to finish the last twelve chapters before getting her notes. I have received very good feedback, and believe most of it will improve my book. They definitely will add more thrills to the story line, and chances to connect with the characters. *fingers crossed*

I have to say it is great to be writing on here everyday (almost), and working more on my manuscript. Also, picking up books, and actually reading the amount I used to has been great too. I hope to query more literary agents in 2019 while both writing and reading to grow myself and my ‘craft’. Over the past few weeks, I have accumulated a variety of works by different authors to challenge myself in that regard.

January is always an interesting month for me, I find. Not only is it the changing of the year and the beginning of new dawns, but it is also my birth month. I will be turning 27 in eighteen days, and I have struggled with my age for a few years now. Growing baby pressure (from family and myself), a need to move from the house my husband and I have outgrown, and the fact that I feel I am stepping backwards in life make it tough to think “age is just a number.”

However, I am GOING to change that thinking this year. Too often I let the voices of others outweigh my own, and it isn’t fair to me or to them. They don’t get to see who I truly am, and I torture myself to fit their molds. I may be loud, boisterous, and absolutely abnormal, but there is nothing wrong with that or me. I may be crude, overly honest, and share too much about myself (before I get to know you), but that is who I am. I am not going to be ashamed or apologize for it anymore.

This year, I am going to fight for a healthy me, in mind, spirit, and body. I am going to continue pursuing my dreams of being a writer, and make it happen. This is the time to put energy towards projects, and make them a reality! I have no one to blame, but myself if it doesn’t come true, after all.

I know plenty of people are posting this kind of ‘shit’, but it is a way to air out the old and grasp the new we want for ourselves. Rejoice in who you are now, and make the changes you need to to be happy. That is what we owe ourselves and those who spend time with us. Denying our truths not only denies others our true spirits, but an amazing freedom we all have the right to experience in our lives.

So, to be one of those people, here is the sum of my resolutions for 2019:

  1. Eat better and exercise to become a happier, less negativity person
  2. Read more (outside the box), and write more (outside the box)
  3. Keep trying to get representation for my manuscript (also look into self publishing)
  4. Keep active on my blog, and learn from those on here
  5. Craft more too!

I know resolutions can be cheesy, and many die before the end of January, but this year is gonna be my bitch! (To put it bluntly). There’s a fire in me, and I am fanning the flames, and keeping it burning!

I hope this year is everything you want/need it to be! Remember, treat yourself and others kindly!

Just write everyday of your life. Read intensely. Then see what happens. Most of my friends who are put on that diet have very pleasant careers. ~ Ray Bradbury

 

P.S. I am going to be listening to High Hopes by Panic! at the Disco on my rougher days to keep myself inspired. Any songs you think would benefit me on low energy, depressing, or just tragic days, share them! I will also takes motivating/inspire/truthful quotes, too!

Mind and Soul

Love.
It’s bitter.
It’s caring.
It shred souls,
And woos hearts.
 
It fills one with
Desire.
To claim,
To maim,
To fight,
And cause pain.
 
It makes one
Surrender.
To the glory of another,
To the passionate touch,
That ignites tempting fires.
 
It builds our
Dreams.
To stumble,
To be stronger,
And take what is our’s.
 
Love.
It is human.
It is animal.
It is all.
 
Let it claim you,
Mind and Soul.
You can’t be a good writer without being a good thinker. This is a depressing thought for a writer. ~ Andy Rooney