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
6. Labyrinthine adj. complicated, torturous, resembling a labyrinth
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.
Zephira draws up her mandolin. A few gentle strums of its strings lets loose the amora of fall leaves and vanilla. Her head lowers beyond sight. The air rushes by suddenly perishing dreams of Summer. Her words turn staccato like piano notes. I resist with all my might.
A distant cello joins in with her melody. The world bends to her. Maybe tomorrow, I’ll slip back to where I belong. The world is so small within the looking glass.
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.
This week’s photo prompt is provided by Dorothy. Thank you!
“Boys, WHAT does the Sign say!” Glenda smiles at her transgressers.
Two boys halt as if caught in a spider’s web. They hop off the tandom bike together.
“Ugh. We just live over there. We always cut through here.” Joshua looks back at his younger brother.
“There’s a path. You make that by going over and over my lawn!” Glenda puts her right hand on her hip. Her left hand circles around the boys.
Slowly the boys leave the ground.
“I can keep you off the lawn in more than one way. Allow me to show you the only nice way!” Glenda cackles in laughter.
“Joshua! Let’s get out of here!” Thomas spinning his arms thinking of he flies like a bird it may help.
“Just let’s us go, please!” Joshua shakes as he sees what she had done to them. “We won’t ever did it again. Promise!”
“I know you will only be able to do it once more!” Glenda moves her right hand upward toward the left. She makes a line with hands moving opposite directions. ” I know.”
The boys fall Earthward. They jump on the bike never to be seen hete again.
Written as part of a challenge called Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writers, details available at https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com/2017/08/07/fffaw-challenge-week-of-august-8-2017/
“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/
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.
“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.