FFAW- Writing in the Blanks

This week’s photo prompt is provided by Footy and Foodie. Thank you for our prompt!

“Last rays of light are like the end of a dream.” Trudy softly speaks as she swirls the red wine in her glass.

The Sun slides into the lake with a broad orange stripe left behind.

She taps her pen against the paper pad.

“Ok, End of a dream.” Trudy downs the wine in one swift move. “Is this a good dream or bad one? Maybe a little more wine will help.”

The sky pulls down its purple night shade. A few stars twinkle into view. A cool whisper of the wind rustled the reeds in front of her.

“End of the bottle is like a bas dream.” Trudy looks into the bottle hoping for more. “Oh wait, I can use that.”

115 words

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FFAW – Close Encounters

“Tonite, we see the Watchers return.” Ahote stands at the base of News Rock as the Sun approaches the far ridge.

“God, this is so cool. Do you guys come here every year?” Billy looks at hibs Hopi friend in his embroidered jacket.

“It’s based on lunar cycles. My people would come up in large groups years ago.” Ahote scans the horizon as he speaks “We can not come alone. When we see them, say nothing and take no pictures.”

“Oh..Ok. I didn’t know.” Billy looks about the sky.

A flash of light beams toward them. Three silver figures emerge underneath the light.

“Th..th…They” Billy points and his arm waves.

“Shhh!” Ahote watches his friends come closer.

“But they are..” Billy yells and takes off.

“White people are so easy.” Ahote laughs.

115 words

Written as part of a challenge called Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writers, details are available at https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com/2017/11/13/fffaw-challenge-week-of-november-14-2017/

Mistress of Ceremonies – Worlde

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1. calyx [the sepals of a flower, typically forming a whorl that encloses the petals and forms a protective layer around a flower in bud|a cup-like cavity or structure, in particular|a portion of the pelvis of a mammalian kidney|the cavity in a calcareous coral skeleton that surrounds the polyp|the plated body of a crinoid, excluding the stalk and arms]
2. obscure
3. solicit
4. lurid
5. box-cutter [a thin, inexpensive razor-blade knife designed to open cardboard boxes]
6. suede gloves
7. dilettante [a person who cultivates an area of interest, such as the arts, without real commitment or knowledge]
8. glisten
9. espionage
10. drop box [(in weaving) a box situated on either side of the race plate of the loom that is designed to hold shuttles and to bring bobbins of colored thread in line as desired|a secured receptacle into which items such as returned books or videotapes, payments, keys, or donated clothing can be deposited]
11. whisper
12. bounty

Reason lays like a glistening bounty. She wraps herself in suede gloves and an obscure veil of espionage. She leaves the rest of us like empty calyx after the flowers receive box-cutter shave.

We were guilty of whispers of lurid and solicited truths. She, the dilettante that is she, hides her empty thoughts on a drop box painted in abstracts.

Sunday Whirl – Games without Frontiers

It was clear her taunting use of body was a lesson. With the fury of a war mission, despite the price I would pay, disbelief would be no option. I would slide into the dirt beneath her motives if necessary. I can win this game, or so i thought.

Passing Time

“The Devil’s pocket watch had no hands.” Parson Dubois whispers to the pale breeze.

His eyes look for the passage of time or life…Or anything. His wooden bench testament of a barn no longer in use. Much like the rest of the dozen buildings long abandoned that make up Destiny. His world of three dusty rows mistaken for streets.

His mind places people about the store fronts. Ghosts of days gone by. Horses tied to posts. A wagon left half way between coming and going. Sounds of children ring out. Ladies in long dresses meander past lost in conversation about their neighbors.

The church bell clangs behind him. He jumps up to answer. His hands part the brown faded doors. The empty rows of pews lay sleeping. A simple dias with an open book holds service to a lost cause. Yet behind a partial wall there seems to be life.

His stands fast in the middle to gaze out among his missing flock. He knows no-one should have gone past him. His company creates a mystery. Even the ghosts have departed these parts.

From a corner jumps a ten treat old Reggie Whitener. His Amish hat just about swallows his head. His smile lights up the room.

“I waited till I seen Mr Miller..just like you ask of me!” Reggie stands like he is ready to run and chase the wind.

“Well, that’s a good young man.” He speaks faintly while his eyes look upon someone gone to his reward several years earlier. “Now light us a candle and take your place near your momma.”

He gives into the scene. Voices fill a previously empty church. Parson Dubois wipes his eyes of the flow of tears. He is smiling for first time in a long time. His back remains to the church. His pulse kicks up a notch causing a hot flash.

He turns to hear an angel’s voice calling the assembly toward the light. Standing together six and thirty begin to sing. Each face lights up with a soft glow. They all gently sway side to side in rhythm of the hymn. One last beacon of hope from the ashes blown around for a generation.

“You have all come back to me!” he leaves a careless laugh to his words.

The breezes blow past. Through the windows a world grows dark. The faces smile brighter.

“It’s time you came home with us.” They collectively sing.

Parson Dubois falls sidewise on the bench. His pocket watch no longer needs hands either.

Wordle – Shallow Heartbeat

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1. devour
2. self-possessed
3. exhaust
4. chaste [abstaining from extramarital, or from all, sexual intercourse|not having any sexual nature or intention|without unnecessary ornamentation; simple or restrained]
5. dowry [property or money brought by a bride to her husband on their marriage]
6. pollen
7. white sweet clover
8. arc
9. the conventional position
10. animate
11. fawn
12. sprout

A lovely set of arcs spells out a promissory dowry. A tender fawn or maybe a honeybee drawn by white sweet clover pollen. The idea sprouts maybe a wolf in sheep’s clothing using the conventional position before it devours prey. The act of self-possessed mind playing chaste or just animated figure exhausting possibilities.

Sunday Whirl – Fate Denied

My sly smile blossoms. I have denied the child’s fate. An anxiety closet with a tapestry weaver in decline will soon be renting somewhere else.

FFAW – Aliens

This week’s photo prompt is provided by yarnspinnerr. Thank you yarnspinnerr!

“There has been strange lights in the woods for the best part of a week. Jeb says there’s a tree trunk made of concrete. It’s time we look it over.” I look over at Rodney. His black eyes hold my fast in my chair.

“We been out there before. Same lights…things get funny out there in them woods.” Rodney uses the back of his hand to rest his bearded chin his arm angles to the arm of the chair. “You ought to think this through.”

His words flood back night images of dancing lights and unworldy sounds. We always promised never to talk about what happened. Neither of us could put enough pieces together to make sense of it all any way.

“But they are tiny. We seen them. If we just smash down the nest…” my words float across a dead silence. “It’ll be different..this time.”

“Well, that Gulliver shit didn’t work last time! I got my double barrel sitting right here.” Rodney pats the but of the wooden end of his shotgun.

“Its our woods! It ain’t right to let them build and take over it.” My defiant streak fights my lack of memory from last time.

199 words (borrowing from short pieces 😉)

Wordle – The wrong words

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1. lockjaw [spasm of the jaw muscles, causing the mouth to remain tightly closed, typically as a symptom of tetanus|an accent associated with the upper class of the northeastern United States, characterized by a supposed lack of movement of the mouth and jaw]
2. ambiguous
3. adjuration[an earnest request; entreaty|a solemn or desperate urging or counseling]
4. laconic [(of a person, speech, or style of writing) using very few words| brief, terse, succinct]
5. canter
6. spare key
7. swan song [a person’s final public performance or professional activity before retirement]
8. mellisonant [containing or constituting or characterized by pleasing melody]
9. dope
10. electrics
11. costume
12. posturing

The spare key to my mind clicked at the wrong time. I was trapped with lock jaw uttering my mellisonant swan song to an ambiguous costumed witch. My canter was an electric shock posturing me as a laconic dope. Her turning away left me looking in need of adjuration.