Some of this may be upsetting so if you are easily upset, please do not continue further. Likewise, the upset deals with pets so if you find that hard to take, please do not read further.
I don’t think I’ve ever felt bad about one of my Friday Fictioneers stories before, but I guess I have about my last one. I didn’t go over it the 552 times that I usually do, which meant it had gaps. Continue reading
Bees in Autumn
The door to mortality opened
this life, not a dress rehearsal,
the chill stings,
the bites of bees in autumn
you have under a hundred sunrises
I have never felt more alone.
Thank you as always to Rochelle for hosting Friday Fictioneers. If you’d like to join, please click here to read the instructions and add your contribution.
And, I hate to add this qualification, but I’m on vacation and while I will try to read everyone’s contribution, I apologize if it’s not in a timely manner.
You and me. Us.
Are there any stronger words? Two against all! You and me forever!
We huddled in that slight crevice, time and time again. You despised going home, especially on Fridays when your Dad’s paycheck bought liters of cheap gin and an ugly anger that marked bruises on your pretty face.
And me, my home was a sarcophagus, cold, where my parents stole to their own caves, not acknowledging me or each other.
You and me, us, holding hands, reprieve.
Us lasted a long time.
Until time threaded its skeletal fingers around your wrist stealing you away.
Thanks to Rochelle, as always, for providing a home for these wonderful photo prompts for Friday Fictioneers. If you would like to join in the fun, visit here.
PHOTO PROMPT © Kent Bonham
Darkness threatened as I navigated twisting streets trying to catch a glimpse of Joe’s taillights. This recurring dream inhibited my daytime, injecting uncertainty where none before existed.
Our life was good; why would he leave?
The house shook with thunder. The shepherd cowered between my knees and the stove where I stirred onions in olive oil.
Mary’s tiny voice filled brief quiet gaps. “What game is this, Daddy? How do I play?”
I peered around the doorway to see him, sweating, prostrate on the carpet.
Through thick rain I trailed the ambulance, its taillights red in the eclipsing darkness.
Carrot Ranch Flash Fiction Challenge. June 22, 2017 prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story that involves a dream. This action could have happened while awake, such as daydreaming, or make up a dream when asleep. Go where the prompt leads as it could be a nightmare or just fond memories or ambition.
This is #2 and fictional, although a very similar theme to the first.
I feel gentle fingertips caress my temple, wake to his brown eyes fastened on mine, concern etched in them. His breath, hot upon my cheek, once would have been enough.
“Are you getting up?” he asks, a whisper.
“I need a little more sleep,” I say. He nods, kisses my brow. I almost pull him to me, to have him close.
I’ve never told him that sometimes she appears in dreams and her laughter clutches me. I sleep hoping to dream of her.
I think I hear him say: “Please come back to me” before I slide into slumber.