BraveWrite, Week 4

September 26th

He sits across from his therapist as she checks off #boxes in her mind. She scribbles notes down from his answers and he bites his lip from asking. He’s new to this. His leg bounces, up and down, anxious for answers. Anxious to be told it’s not in his head.

 

September 27th

The wind kisses the leaves with a playful breeze and dances with fading flowers. Insects buzz in swirls around his ears. Rough bark reaches for skin through thick sweaters but he welcomes its affirming touch. He #listens to nature, sat upon its packed dirt.

 

September 28th

She talked to herself through every task. Rambled and raved. No audience required for the #insane mutterings she came across. She told stories in whispers and shouts. She told stories of the sad and mad. It kept her amused. They called her crazy, but she knew where her marbles were.

 

September 29th

She held the leash loosely in her right hand as her dog marched forward, nose to the ground. Their feet and paws crunched on the #crisp leaves felled by Autumn’s breeze. Her eyes were vigilant for any threats to her dog and thankfully her dog listened when needed.

 

September 30th

The #epoch of her life had been the four years in university. She sat in the back, hiding her mind from classmates and professors. She toyed around on her laptop, unable to focus. Anxiety thrummed in her heartbeat, coaxing her into depressive and manic episodes.

 

October 1st

She stands out like a sore thumb covered in scars, tattoos, and piercings. Surrounded by girls in booty shorts and crop tops, she flashes her middle finger at the cookie cutters. She’s #contrarian and bucks the social norm. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

 

October 2nd

She was without an #anchor in the storm. The ropes that tied her to the docks had long since frayed, rubbed repeatedly between boat and wood. She nose dived under a large wave, its waters threatening to fill her. Alone in the harbour, she wondered how long she’d last.

 

BraveWrite, Week 2

It’s Hump Day, people! The best and worst day of a work week.

I have felt entirely sapped of my energy and I am hoping I can turn it around today. Fingers crossed! I don’t need to sleep in and waste the day away doing nothing which is what yesterday taught me.

My mom came over and helped sand, clean, and put the first coat of Tremclad on our awful metal railings. They look better already after that. However, being productive didn’t quite get me out of this weird mood slump I’ve been in so here’s hoping today’s the day.

Anyways, I hope you are on your way to a wonderful weekend and may my BraveWrites help you out!

 

September 12th

She stared out the car window and watched the rain streak down it. Her mother talked at her, but she didn’t hear the words. Only emptiness.

But she was #encouraged by their want to help and surprised when they confessed their own visits to a psychiatrist. Maybe there was hope.

 

September 13th

She watches as her mother takes another drag. The cigarette’s blue-tinged smoke shimmers in the light and dissipates.

A silent, slow threat.

And she sheds another tear. Greying skin, ragged coughs, the crimson drops that spell the end. She waits for #cancer to claim her mom.

 

September 14th

Video game consoles litter the house, attached to various TVs. She turns on the xbox 360 and plays Assassin’s Creed. Her character scales rough pick, runs across clay tile, and lives.

She envies his freedom though she is the #gamer.

 

September 15th

Her brother pushed her under the water as part of the game. His hand was like steel on her head and she fought to surface. To suck in oxygen once more.

Panic had set in as time slowed. When he finally released her, she was ravenous for air.

Her #umbrage was now rage.

 

September 16th

The #vibration of the nail file on her toes unnerved her and served as a reminder. She was unwelcome here.

She was no pretty girl who wore make-up, fake nails, or got her hail done. She was a tomboy whose hands were filthy and rough.

But she stayed in the salon.

 

September 17th

She stood with her friends and their boyfriends in line, waiting to have her prom ticket checked. It was clutched in a white-knuckled fist as her anxiety took over. Her companions laughed and gasped as they entered the hall.

She suffocated internally on the #pizzazz.

 

September 18th

Her #alacrity had nothing to do with a fear of failure. It had everything to do with her need to prove them wrong. She was tired of the comparisons that ground her spirit into dust. She was tired of fearing whispers and taunting looks. She’d stand strong.

Very Short Stories, Week 20

Hey everyone! Happy Labour Day, if you celebrate it!

I was enjoying the four day weekend with my hubby, but he’s fallen ill. That means constant snoring is in the background as he naps. Fingers crossed he gets better soon because it sucks when he feels so shitty!

Personally, things are starting to feel more normal since Jasper passed away. I’m crying less, but the last couple nights, he’s visited in some wonky ass dreams so I don’t know what he’s playing at!

That all means my very short stories aren’t as sad, depressing, or negativity. Some are, dare I say, hopeful.

Anyways, hope you enjoy!

 

August 27th

Lies are #tangled webs

That thrive

When the Truth

Dies

Alone and unspoken.

Lies are poison

We drink and spread

Like dinner rolls

Passed Clockwise.

Lies are the half truths

We trust to soothe Pain

That claims

Our minds

And dines on our hopes.

Lies are vicious Weaponry

We wield.

 

August 28th

His strength was a #fragile thing, hid behind stone walls made of pure silence. She longed to shatter them and cherish the words he would whisper. But he was a statue. The odd crack pierced his thick skin and his soul was beautifully broken in those moments of despair.

 

August 29th

The sweet #million tomato plant had grown beyond the garden’s borders. Its vast collection of ripening fruit blocked the zucchini plants and choked the other tomato plants. Roots provided strength to endure the storms that came and went. Yet its own weight toppled its branches.

 

August 30th

#Somewhere out there lies the reason she exists. If only she could separate it from life’s numerous obstacles. Instead, she wanders from problem to problem, fixated on everything, everyone, but her. If only the voices would stop shouting, putting fresh tears in her eyes.

 

August 31st

#Forever, she swore on their wedding day to stand by his side. His screams in bad moments didn’t deter her nor his dark days of depression. Their shared laughs and smiles united them like the knots they tied in matrimony. Together they were strong and she would remind him. Always.

 

September 1st

Street lights remained barren as the #gloaming descended. The asphalt paths were seas of black. Curtains blocked shut windows and multiple locks clicked into place. Any hint of light vanished as the people waited in fearful silence.
The scratching was heard first.

 

September 2nd

#Love is a stitch, a knot

It ties lives together

Loose or tight

Its thread can break

Wear and tear

It can be replaced

With #Love again

Tender touch

And words of care

Can repair

A broken stitch

But take heart

Best not to break

A bond of #Love

Worlds and Realms

I dream of worlds

And dwell in realms

Of colours and magics

It leaves my thoughts manic.

 

I cast spells in letters

Catch minds with nets

Fashioned from phrases

Left on white page.

 

My fingers dance across keys

and tell tales of many veils

Pulled back and explored

More stories to adore.

 

My love is writing

And it strikes like lightning

Providing new sightings

That I hope are inviting.

Very Short Stories, Week 16!!!

Hey, guys! I can’t believe it has been FOUR MONTHS since I started doing the very short stories prompts on Twitter. It has kept me writing and challenged me in new ways.

The best thing I like about the #vss365 is it continually challenges my creativity and my ability to show rather than tell. Sometimes, I don’t deliver what I really want, but most of the time I really enjoy them!

My nephew has gone home and so it is time to settle back into a familiar routine that includes working on my manuscript. I’m prepping somemore tools to really help me get it to that polished level.

Anyways, I’ll keep this short. Here are my very short stories for the week!

 

July 30th

Birds of a feather #flock together, she told her daughter and ruffled her hair. You’ll be fine! I promise.

The daughter nodded and grabbed the familiar hand of her mother, worn with age. They walked down the gravel road of their drive way to wait for the school bus.

 

July 31st

The #Queen of Darkness reigned over nightmares and relished the sounds of screams. Pained wails bounced off the remains of her stone castle that night. The cries mingled with the smell of spilt blood to soothe her soul and she dreamed of red drops in the depths of depravity.

 

August 1st

The #cellar doors were smashed bits, surrounding the poorly lit opening. Its stairs descended into the pitch black with no end in sight. The flashlight shook in her hands but she clicked the light on. Cautious steps took her down the steps. The creaking echoed for miles.

 

August 2nd

#Familiar hands clasped hers, warm and soothing. But she didn’t hear his words. She’d vanished into a funeral in her mind’s eye, surrounded by fragrant flowers and the tears of the mourning. The coffin before her was made of oak, strong and sturdy like her father had been in life.

 

August 3rd

It’s a tough lesson when it comes to #sacrifice, the teacher said. His high school students sat there, bored but silent. Their gaze weighed on his shoulders and he breathed deeply. You see, certain jobs have more risks than others. They require a willingness to give and not get.

 

August 4th

Stars shimmered in the night sky like glitter on a black cloth. The pale face of the moon was absent, waiting rebirth the next night. She moved the telescope slowly, hunting for a different celestial body. Aha! She exclaimed as #Jupiter came into focus. Just beautiful!

 

August 5th

The #Empress stood still and silent, an observer of her husband’s power. Her role was nothing more than to enhance his presence.

She loathed him for it.

Her eyes roamed the army til they spotted her soldier. His attire shone in the light. Memories of his touch tempted her again.

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.