Isabella

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“You have candy?!  Give me candy and I won’t eat your brains.   Not right away.   I just need candy” Isabella circles like a puppy. Bright shiny eyes albeit a bit disturbingly colored.”I’ll be good.  Really! I need chocolate.”

Mr Mills looks awkwardly at the child. “Who have you this hairdo? And those contacts? They are horrible! You look like a Halloween doll! Where’s you guardian little one?”

His hands twitch as they tug at the sleeves of the blue ill-fitting suit. His eyes stay down away from the child.  His middle aged conditions knawl at him.  He wants answers but the child is obviously spoiled beyond belief. 

“I ate her brain.  She told me to take of my wig.   So i jumped up on her shoulders to chew hers off her head. I was surprised when it was real.” she looks around the room for an unseen need “I guess that’s what the screaming she was doing was all about. But I didn’t get my candy yet.   So where’s it at?”

“Rich imagination child. I’m here on serious matters.  It won’t take much more before in feed up with your game.   Isabella, be a good girl.  Go find Ms Maples….please.” His face is a tightrope.  The words filter through clinched teeth. 

“Ok, I’ll go get someone. Do you me too? Really she’s not much to talk to anymore…” Isabella kicks at the floor.  The realization that no candy is coming sinks in. 

“Yes, Isabella, I would like that very much.” Mr Mills watches her disappear. Little foot steps find a hallway and echo against dark wood panels.

He turns to look at the strange tapestry of a fox hunt on the wall.  “No wonder she’s so dark.”

A squeaking sound builds within the hall that Isabella chose.  He waits to turn.   The woman clearly kept him waiting for a reason.   No-one thinks child services ever sees these tactics.

“Here she is…Ms Maples.  You wanted to she her.   Here she is!” The little girl poses like the magician completing a trick.

“My God! What happened here?!” His voice quivers and fails. His face stretches and pales.  Dark holes once held eyes can’t move.  Slowly his body leans away.

“You asked.  I brought her to you.   Where’s the candy,  Mr Mills?” her voice starts to sing. 

Ms Maples is on a dolly.   Her skull sticking out, part of its skin covers what’s left of a face. Her pale skin shows signs of bruising.   Tied hands hold her together in a modified ball.  

“Oh please, give me the candy.  You adults are hard enough to deal with.  My sugar is low….I don’t know weekday I might do next.   Right, Ms Maples.” Isabella smiles. 

Mr Mills runs for the door.  Small feet move much faster than old feet. 

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The Village

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

Below me the village spreads out.  I have a name but I’d prefer to make our meeting a surprise to him.   Business decision. My pack can only hold so many things that protect but remain unseen.  

The mountain ridge forms a spine.  It builds a beast is called isolation.  I couldn’t be any stranger to them down there. The advantage is noone knows why I’m passing through.   The old farmers some talk at me anyway.  And they are all that seems to live there. 

Their clan may decrease by one.  I reach back to the lower left pocket.   A six inch blade, pummel waiting for that firm handshake.  One’s man riches balance on that knife tip.  I have my opinion of whose riches should come out on top. 


Written as a part of a challenge called Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. Details available at https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com/2017/04/03/fffaw-challenge-week-of-april-4-2017/

Wordle #149 – Man’s Kind

Week 149.png

1. Cleft

2. Simple

3. Pearl

4. Altschmerz n. weariness with the same old issues that you’ve always had—the same boring flaws and anxieties you’ve been gnawing on for years, which leaves them soggy and tasteless and inert, with nothing interesting left to think about, nothing left to do but spit them out and wander off to the backyard, ready to dig up some fresher pain you might have buried long ago.

5. Cheat

6. Name

7. Assemble

8. Meant

9. Lattice

10. Weak

11. Insidious adj. intended to entrap or beguile: stealthily treacherous ordeceitful: operating or proceeding in an inconspicuous or seeminglyharmless way but actually with grave effect

12. Let

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

“Let the weak and simple assemble their own hell.  Those with no name are meant for altschmertz.  Lattice work of cleft pearls called cheat.  That’s what mankind gift is.” Anubis drags a staff across the floor of the temple.

Noone speaks next.

Wordle #147 – Vision

Wordle #147 “March 20th, 2017″

Week 147

1. Latch

2. Ballet

3. Levitate

4. Heliotrope ((n.) Any hairy plant belonging tothe genus Heliotropium, of the borage family, asH. arborescens, cultivated for its small, fragrantpurple flowers. Any of various other plants, asthe valerian or the winter heliotrope. Any plantthat turns toward the sun. A light tint of purple;reddish lavender. Surveying. an arrangement ofmirrors for reflecting sunlight from distantpoint to an observation station.)

5. Iridescence

6. Media

7. Passion

8. Harmony

9. Inseperable

10. Legs

11. Heat

12. Flashover ((n). The moment a conversation becomes real and alive, which occurs when a spark of trust shorts out the delicate circuits you keep insulated under layers of irony, momentarily grounding the static emotional charge you’ve built up through decades of friction with the world. Electricity. a disruptivedischarge around or over the surface of a solid orliquid insulator. The moment of conflagration orcomplete incineration caused by super heated airor combustibles.)

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

 Ballet of levitation her legs latch my eyes.   I’m turned heliotrope to the Sun.  Harmony to passion.  The need is inseparable.  Heat becomes flashover. Upon her iridescent gaze, I reduce to media bit.

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