Somewhere – Stories by 5

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.

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.

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)

Outpost Wordle #166

Week 166

1. Foolish

2. Figment

3. Need

4. Circle

5. Jump

6. Myrmidon (n.)) a person who executeswithout question or scruple master’scommands. Also see mythology)

7. Entangle

8. Glint

9. Hood

10. Chocolate

11. Eccentric

12. Willowwacks (A wooded or uninhabited area. )

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

There is a foolish need to jump forth from my entangle hood of willowwacks. My thoughts circle on the eccentric glint of reason

 “Am I a myrmidon?”  I mumble. 

Figments of freedom dance like chocolate to a dieter.  When does one abandon their post.

Wordle #165

Week 165.png

1. Shine

2. Clip

3. Abash (v)) to destroy the self-confidence, poise, or self-possession of;disconcert;make ashamed orembarrassed)

4. Read

5. Salvage

6. Celadon (n.)) a pale grey-green, any ofseveral Chinese porcelains having atranslucent, pale green glaze..)

7. Permeate

8. Sag

9. Nervous

10. Vacant

11. Offal (the parts of the animal that are considered inedible, viscera, rubbish)

12. Trenchancy (adj.)) incisive or keen,as language or a person; caustic; cutting; vigorous; effective; energetic)

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

Nervous to show sagging, unabashed i shine like salvaged celadon.  Trechancy airs permeate the meeting. Vacant eyes and minds move clip by clip. Their fingers reading offal and entails for facts unseen.