…..back!!!

Hi guys, its been a lo………….ng time since i posted here, from just a month’s planned break to 5  months…. *cringes*
Hopefully i get to post a cool short story  from the numerous word  challenges out there for a great restart.

…….(Happy New Year &  Month in  Arrears 🙂 )

CHEERS

The Last Bag

It took one night and our last bag was gone. Devoured. The ghouls drank it all, and ate the brewing pot too. The mere scent like an Elixir, driving sane men schizophrenic.
A relic of our old life gone, we are next.

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Two Score and Counting

Down the colonnade, she strolled humming my song. Every evening I watch as she sings her way into my soul, she looks so carefree. An oasis of calm in the hurried crowd milling tonight. She stops barely a feet away, I can hear my breathing. The evening breeze twines her perfume past me.

Is this the night I speak to my beloved?

I’ve thought of so many ways, each sillier than the last. Watching and waiting for weeks, my stay was at a end. I will be on the next boat home on the morrow, it was now or never.

*******

It feels just like yesterday, as we walk hand in hand down the colonnade, her hearty laughter still makes my heart skip; 42 years and i wish to do it all over again. We do this every decade or so.Me: I cant wait for another decade Lucy.

Lucy: Huh? Jeff what are you talking about. She bends towards a purple window lily.
These are so beautiful Jeff.

Me: Just like you always are dear.She always laughs, i want to hear this forever.

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Inspired by The Friday Fictioneers: 17th July 2015

PHOTO PROMPT- © Sandra Crook

 

Embers

The embers of an old life struggle to burn

My baby self plays nearby oblivious to the dangers inherent

Floating through this scene

I can neither scream nor touch to convey my thoughts

In the last glows of the fire

Are scenes I wish I could go over once more

To redo as I see fit

In a blink I pass through

Just another metaphoric memory

In these last few hours all my moment are filled with these flashes

Soon these dusty grounds will fall silent

These hills and morning mists will no longer echo with our young cries to God

The shrill whistles will fall silent

To gather dust till the next time

The lights that beckoned over the hill crest will be out

Pulled out of their sockets

A past life of glitz forgotten

When it’s light gave shadows to the white silhouettes

The heat, smoke and din of music forgotten

These market stalls will fall dead silent

A ghost town for a time

Swept clean of any footprint

Of the sane, the drunk, the merchants and the buyers

A clean slate of earth waiting for fresh sweat

A thirst that time will fulfil

As I imagine my footsteps out of here

What will be my thoughts as I pass these grey beaten walls

A confine forced, to show patriotism and loyalty

To a society that rejects all who have no name or power

My Fable Tower

Hot dusty roly skies, with winds coming of the range scaldingly dry.
In my fantasy was a meadow of the bluest flowers, my county of Valwall stretching to the wooded horizon courtyards encircle my tower, being the princess meant i got everything i could want. My view still couldn’t stay my shivers, i meet my betrothed tonight.
What is he like.
My wandering thoughts shatter on hearing the chatter of powerful hooves. The horsed figure stops beneath my tower the blackest of cloaks conceal his features. All my thoughts disappear when eyes of the greenest sea collide with mine.

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Friday Fictioneers challenge: 15 MAY 2015

Word Count: 99.

Dusty Ride

Sneezing right now just might damage my brain cells and clothes. John’s nose crinkles and the sneeze is snuffed. Looking around at his sleep cabin mates, his young dusty skin shines in the array of old and weathered men strewn asleep on the floor.
Every morning i go to the mines in this train, the horizon doesn’t change, dawn or dusk irrelevant to my miner eyes. I can’t help but think maybe I’ll end up like them, stuck in time. The endless vicious cycle of this ghostly outback town in Australia’s huge dust bowl.
His mind whispers; “Jump off now”.

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Word Count: 100
Written for Friday Fictioneers: 10 APRIL 2015

Kaleidoscope of Love

The colours,
Oh the colours spread across the pitch black city sky, red, orange shooting dragons. The kaleidoscope of fireworks warmed my heart, just like thoughts of her.
Turning to kiss her soft hair, looking into her eyes I know I’ll only see the world from now on through the colours of love. She was my sight and all I need to see a brighter world.

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