FFAW – Convenience in a Cup

This week’s photo prompt is provided by artycaptures.wordpress.com. Thank you artycaptures!

“Oh no! I’m not trying that!” Stella curls her nose at the streaming cup before her.

“Just try it once. You’ll be hooked, just like me!” Mortimer inches it across the table at her.

“No! I’ll have none of that gruel!” Stella pushes it back, spilling half of it on the table.

They both watch as the foamy paste slowly deflates into a pool of red, orange clumps surrounded by water.

“I told you! Look at what you choose over our natural food!” Stella stands up her long pale face grimacing at her mate. “This is the reason our kind are disappearing! All processed foods!”

“It’s really good, though. You don’t have to hang out on dark alleys for food.” Mortimer looks at his spindly hands wringing then together. ” I suppose the thrill isn’t there. Pitty, that.”

“Shut the hell up! You are a vampire! You’re drinking blood substitute for a Kuerig!” Stella points out the blasphemous device. “Mother was right about you!”

Word count 158

Written as part of a challenge called Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer

life’s journeys

Week 168

1. Feign

2. Gait

3. Torn

4. Press

5. Left

6. Labyrinthine adj. complicated, torturous, resembling a labyrinth

7. Look

8. Embed

9. Malformed

10. Gritty

11. Natural

12. Dead-reckoning (In navigation, dead reckoning is the process of calculating one’s current position by using a previously determined position, or fix, and advancing that position based upon known or estimated speeds over elapsed time and course.)

Use at least 10 of the words to create a story or poem The words can appear in an alternate form Use the words in any order that you like.

Tag: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie and Wordle

I look upon my world. Naturally dead-reckoning has put me nowhere. My gait has deeply embedded a left turning path of malformed circles. But still I press on.

My gritty reality torn from labyrinthine puzzle that feigns living.

Sunday Whirl – Gambling

A bag of answers laugh at me. I’ll reflect upon the smoke of my options left bare. Agents of misfortune band together casting their stones back at my direction.

Time to leave blackjack tables.

Glaring Problem?

My sunglasses do well

My problems seem to disappear

Out of sight all the better

I reveal in blindness

it takes away the pain

We are all flawed

But no sense in dwelling

It is all an illusion

A dance without a tune

A song played by swaying trees

Like a shadow or lost puppy

They follow my every move

But problems aren’t glaring

if you don’t look

The Tides

Tides wash away the day

Flotsam and jetsam of tomorrow

Awaiting to meet sand of yesterday

My thoughts like lagan lay buried

Churning seas push and pull at them

Still the tide wash away the day

Dreams like whitecaps ripple

Appearing here then there

Like illusions I long to hold

I watch them drift away

Yet still the tides wash away the day

Yesterday gives me place

Resting here I replay days

Beyond me hope floats

Riding waves free to move on

But still the tides wash away the day

*flotsam (floating debris) & jetsam (subsurface debris) are joined by lagan (sunken debris) here

Watched Over

“In the end, we all become stories.” Derisè whispers to her child. “Margaret Atwood told us.”

Her left hand rises.

“There was a hummingbird. He set forth on this world to let loose the seed of the rainbow papaya. His partner is transforming our place was the fox. The fox driven by his interest in funding something better than gooseberries no eat. Mr Hummingbird was much to fast to be eaten. The fox liked him for that.” Desirè looks down at her little grandson.

“Why didn’t he eat something else?” Peter looks up at his Granny. ” Foxes sneak and grab everything.”

“Peter, everyone has roles to play and rules they must follow.” Desirè laughs “Mother Earth is the water barrier. She spills life. This life picks and chooses how they will help out the world.”

“But how does she know the animals are following what they have to do?” Peter moves his hands waving at the stars emerging in the purple of twilight.

“If you ever see an eye looking at someone’s window, she is there.” her voice becomes a laugh “We are at peace when every animal follows the plan. It is we, that she watches.”

Written as part of a challenge called Collage details are available at https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2017/08/06/writing-prompt-205-special-collage/

Sunday Whirl – Surprised

Color burst surfaced in my mind. A punch to the throat mixed with wrapping chains. I simmered.

“What kind of nut?” I labeled him, as if it matters now.

Missing

“Did you notice a girl? She ran be this way… maybe an hour ago.” Barry looks at his diminutive counterpart.
His eyes notice the old house. Great spidling detail with cracked flakes of paint that should have been white at one time.

“Seen noone, slick. It’s not where you turn a little piece run…. loose.” Sly spits out a watermelon seed. It beautifully arches ten feet landing on the toe of brand new white shoes.
Barry kicks toe clear of seed. “Its important. She isn’t the kind to be, well here.”

“You don’t like MY neighborhood?!” Sly sits up his fill four feet. He slips a knife through the watermelon. The blade slides effortlessly. A single stream of juice bleeds across the red table. But dark tiny eyes burn against Barry’s skin.

“Dude, just looking for my girl. I never spent time here. You circus people don’t seem to like…. My people being around. I feel the looks.” Barry standing slightly slumped. His back curls and he tries not to look normal. “Seriously, if you seen her..”

“You are what, a model? Us circus people are so judgemental. What would a normal girl do here? I’d love to have, say dinner with one like her.” Sly takes a napkin and wipes his mouth. The white napkin shows of his rudy hands with yellow nails.

“Did you see her?” Barry stands tall and steps toward the porch.

“See her?! We had mystery dinner tonite. It served twelve of us. I even had room for dessert.” Sly spits out a fingernail. The silver ombre tip catches the light. “Watermelon? It’s National Watermelon Day!”

“Is that what i think it is?!” Barry shakes.

“Genius it’s a watermelon!” Sly smiles a crooked smile.

foggy

The misty morning beckons 

thin white haze blankets world 
Trees become ghosts 

Birds spirits, light changes 

What I know fades 

Senses play on questions 

Distance is a mystery 

Time and place dissolve

My day alters alluringly 

Fascination over fear 

Delicate image reimagined 

My heart hopes it lasts 

But foggy gives way

every time.

<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/foggy/”>Foggy</a&gt;

Into the Blue

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

“Pine island only reachable by boat….. Or kayak” George’s voice peaks and finishes the pitch to get away. 

“You are serious?! It’s a long way for a first trip.” Bridget knows the look on his face. “Someone owes me…if I do this.” 

Bridget stares up at the Sun.  The waves of turquoise wash over her.  Her body rides the tide.

Her mind plays the conversion over and over again.

The scene of the two red kayaks on the beach. The soft wind plays on every sense. Smells of salt. Palm leaves flex and sing. Warm caress of the Sun. A weird sensation of blood in her mouth. 

George briefly smiles. A sharp point about the shoulder blade. Bridget falls. George looks down upon her. Then the water covers her. 

“A new start for us! I told you if i couldn’t have you… Noone would!” George smiles again.

(148 Words)