In the still of a moonlit night he lay snug inside his sleeping bag. His mind wandering back to what had made him to come to this place. Was it to be at one with nature, or just an escape from the madness of the city. He had felt compelled to return to his favorite place in the forests of northern Michigan.
Here he could breathe and think clearly. He remembered camping here as a boy with his father who had told him this was a spiritual place. He didn’t quite understand what that meant but he knew enough to respect the land and the wildlife.
It was at that moment that he heard the wolves cry out. He remembered the sound and what his father had said.
“Don’t be scared son. In their dreams they sleep with the moon, not outside our tent”.
Merril is hosting Prosery Monday at D’Verse Poets and has prompted us with a line from a poem. We are to write a piece of flash fiction of no more than 144 words, excluding the title, and it must include the line below.
We spent a lifetime not even knowing each other. Spinning our wheels with failed marriages and empty relationships. Coming from different parts of the world we inexplicably ended up in the same city. Moving in the same orbit but not connecting until that one special night when we finally met. I was cynical and you were the perfect gentleman. We had so much in common and talked into the wee hours sharing stories of world travel.
We lived the dream until the health scare came. The focus was no longer on us, but “it”. It consumed you. Even when you were made safe and fully recovered, it lived with us. Haunting me like a mistress. Now instead of love we are at war with each other.
When it is over said and done, it was a time, and there was never enough of it.
Merril is hosting Monday Prosery at D’Verse Poets and has prompted us with a line from Allison Adelle Hedge Coke’s poem, “A Time”. When it is over said and done, it was a time, and there was never enough of it. We are to write a piece of flash fiction (Prosery) including the prompt line. Prosery is exactly 144 words excluding the title
It was already dark as he closed the car door, thankful for the red moon to light his way down the road. How stupid to run out of gas, tonight of all nights. Angry with himself for not checking.
This was unfamiliar territory but he knew the road followed the river for miles. Coming to a crossroads he stopped momentarily. He felt a chill in the air and heard a moan like an autumn wind high in the lonesome treetops. The strange noise made him shiver. He was cold, having forgotten to bring a jacket, and the hair on the back of his neck was standing to attention. He moved on.
Feeling a presence, he halted turning quickly, but no one was there. Looking around cautiously he resumed his walk. It was then he felt the blow to his head and everything went black.
Lillian is hosting D’Verse Poets Pub tonigh
and the challenge is Prosery (not poetry)
A short story of exactly 144 words excluding
the title and we are to use one of the
following lines from Carl Sandburg’s
poemJazz Fantasia"Moan like an autumn wind high in thelonesome treetops" OR choose 2) "a redmoon rides on the humps of the lowriver hills".
Promote Yourself Monday - Go Dog Go Cafe
Image by Robbowolf from Pixabay
The hall was crowded and David eased his way towards the stage. Squeezing through the throng and ducking under the inevitable signs, he found the spot where his view was unobstructed.
He checked his watch noting it was seven fifty, and then patted his left chest pocket for reassurance. He could hear his heart pounding and he began to sweat.
His fellow directors had chosen to boycott the meeting but there was no way he was going to miss it.
On cue the President of the Autoworkers Union was introduced by the speaker on stage. He entered to resounding cheers and applause from the members. Watching carefully David noted no one left and no one came on the bare platform to join the two men. This was his chance. Amidst the noise, he pulled the gun from his jacket and fired the deadly shot.
Sarah is hosting D’Verse Poets tonight and the theme is Prosery. A piece of flash fiction of 144 words or less. She has asked us to use the following line from the poem Adelstrop by Edward Thomas – No one left and no one came on the bare platform.
Theirs was a short, passionate history going back years. They had been close. So close they could read each other’s minds. They would often finish each other’s sentences as if they were one and the same person. Kindred spirits who ran feely with not a care in the world.
Their bond was deep but it was evanescent. It seemed to us that as quickly as it had blossomed, it was over
They say there are moments caught between heartbeats where love lies dormant, sometimes for a lifetime. All it takes is for that one special soul to find their way in into the layers of our mind and ignite that fiery passion.
This is how it was for them. The spark was kindled but they took no care of their fire. The embers were left dying in the dirt until it burned no more.
Kim of Writing in North Norfolk is hosting Prosery at D'Verse Poets tonight and has asked us to write a flash fiction piece that includes these words from a Louis MacNeice poem called 'Coda" ‘There are moments caught between heart-beats’. Prosery requirement is exactly 144 words excluding the title.
You were young and beautiful, a breath of fresh air, and we all watched you with our jaws on the sidewalk.
Anything was possible for someone like you. So perfect you could hang the moon and the stars. I was completely smitten and let you wrap me around your little finger. I would have done anything for you.
One evening you agreed to take a walk with me along the bank of the river. That night I shared my true feelings with you, telling you how beautiful you were, and that your eyes twinkled like the stars in the sky. You laughed in my face. Your words cutting me like a knife.
In anger I placed my hands around your throat and squeezed until you laughed no more.
That night I dreamt I was the moon and you were the one who hanged me..
It was 2:45 PM and he was early. He took a tall iced latte and sat away from the door. Sitting carefully, he straightened the legs of his freshly cleaned khaki pants.
Flipping through his phone he looked again at her photo. Pretty, outdoorsy and her profile said she owned her own company.
Looking down again at his pants, he reflected on how many khakis he owned. Six or seven pairs at least. It was part of his ‘uniform’. Each internet date he went on, he dressed the same and always ordered an iced latte. If the date quickly went south, he would cleverly spill the coffee in his lap and make an excuse to leave.
Lost in his thoughts he didn’t see her arrive. She introduced herself and he said “Don’t I know you from somewhere?” She replied, “Yes I own the dry cleaners on the corner”
He couldn’t believe his eyes. It was the most amazing thing he had ever seen. He was in the middle of a forest and the floor was covered in beautiful flowers. There were deer gamboling through the trees and he could hear music.
Walking slowly towards him was a beautiful girl. Barefoot and draped in a blue dress, a vision of loveliness. Beautiful flowers were in her hair, a stag at her side and she was playing a wooden flute or whistle. He was mesmerized by the sight and sounds.
As she came closer he stood motionless in a stupor, hypnotized by the scene.
He said to himself in a whisper, ‘Man, these drugs are good.’
She arrived early and the square was empty. It was difficult for her to blend in to the surroundings so she stepped into a doorway and waited.
Her contact was late. When he arrived, she watched him stop and light a cigarette. Drawing on it slowly and inhaling. He looked around and then dropped to tie his shoe. She watched him tuck something into the wooden box next to the water pump. He stood up, flicking the cigarette away, and left hurriedly.
Looking around she saw an old woman approaching the pump with two pails on a pole balanced across her shoulders. She waited patiently until it was clear.
Finally, the old woman left and the square was empty again. Quickly, with her heart pounding, she retrieved the small package from the box and disappeared from sight.
She had risen early, taking advantage of her last day on Virgin Gorda in the British Virgin Islands. She wanted to go to the Baths before it got crowded with tourists and enjoy the relaxing pools between the enormous rocks. There was a certain energy in the quiet sanctuary of the water and a calming atmosphere.
The sun was barely above the horizon when she removed her clothes. Leaving them on the rocks she waded into the crystal-clear pools. The water was refreshing and she dipped below the surface feeling the sensual shock as it consumed her body. With eyes closed she let herself drift underwater for a few moments holding her breath. As she attempted to surface, she realized she was wedged between two boulders and could not raise her head above the water to breathe. She was trapped and no one was there to save her.