Sunday Photo Fiction: Part Seven – Nineteen-Years Later


Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF.


Lamp Post SPF
A Mixed Bag

“Ah, my back. A bullet hit me,” Chad was almost crying. He was half-awake and half in another wold.

He was dreaming of a lamp post glowing in the night beside a park bench. Soothing Russian words came from a man in front of him. The man was a man he had thought was his dead father, Tom.

Then, Sam shook Chad awake,”I know you’re not trained for this Chad. I’m so proud of you, but you have to stay awake.”

Chad groaned, turned on his stomach. He was shocked to see he had been shot right through his cartoon seal tattoo.

“Marrion, look at my tattoo.” Chad rasped.

Marrion was hiding on the floor beside Chad and Sam. They were behind the science lab counters in the back of the lab.

She gasped, grabbing the device she had used to scan Chad’s tattoo before and scanning his tattoo again. She hurriedly, grabbed gauze from a cupboard under a counter.

“Thank God,” she said. “Chad hold the gauze against your tattoo or you’re going to die.”

She smiled at both Sam and Chad: “The bullet deactivated Chad’s tattoo. For all of the technology put into the tattoo, none of it works now.”

The gunshots came closer and the glass from the front door of the lab shattered. Then there were voices.” I remember that voice speaking Russian,” Chad murmured.

“Tom speaks Russian.”  Sam said, then was shocked to hear the distinct tone of his brother’s voice.

“Tom’s here,” Marrion said shaking, pressing her hand against the gauze on Chad’s wound.

“It will be okay honey, I’ve got Tom.” Sam said soothingly. He got up, holding a large gun ready to fire. He slowly, walked towards the sound of Tom’s voice.

“Well, well,” a voice said in English.”My brother Sam. Here to kill me again? You need to give me Chad now.”

“Get ready to run Chad. It’s going to hurt you,” Marrion whispered.

They both escaped out an emergency door to the lab. The fire alarms went off covering Chad’s screams of pain.

He heard yelling and footsteps behind him, before he again, passed-out.


Read part 6 here.


©Mandibelle16.(2016) All Rights Reserved.

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Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: Poem – Lunes – “Never Stopped” #amwriting #poetry #flashfiction #lunes


Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW.

——

The Storyteller’s Abode (Louise)

——-

Hidden between rocks, the ocean —

Returns a treasure. 

A time piece once given.

——

A woman’s long hair blows,

Trailing in winds. 

She inspects the pocket watch —

——-

Before dropping it off the —

Cliff it tumbles, 

Onto rocks, clattering sounds lost —

——-

In the darkness of nights, 

Grip so intense.

Ocean steals the pocket watch —

——

Woman stares down below peering —

Her Grandfather’s watch,

Forever lost, his presence grieved.

—–

Into cold bitter waters enclosing,

Covered in waves. 

Gone for years, taken away.

——

Now a small boy picks up —

A watch and —

Smiles, his new treasure found. 

——-

Dangling it infront of him he —

Puts it to —

His ear; ticking, never stopped. 

——

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Poem: Free Verse – “Neverland and Celesetial Beings” #amwriting #poetry 


http://www.science.nationalgeographic.com

——–

The words flitted through my head, 

As many words, words which may never be said. 

I felt the forms of celestial beings, 

The sky alight, starlight and star bright. 

Twinkling stars forever in their journey of millions to ten billion years, 

Black holes it would seem, a stars end, and another beginning. 

Like the words of poets, of mortal men, 

Glimmering sheen; spoken out loud,

Perhaps, for thousands of years. 

One day all words will flicker out, 

One day no one will remember the words, 

Said eons ago, but for His words; the designer, 

All other words fade to pitch, disappear into black holes. 

We wish for an eternity, yet we dream of fantastic world’s — Neverlands,

Our own earth to flawed to be genuine.

—–

I wonder what words we remember most? 

Are they the words of love and endearment? 

Or the words of intense, raging emotions?

The times we screamed as teenagers,

Angry at life, our parents the world.

Or the times we shrieked, like banshees, for our broken hearts. 

Are they words said at a loved ones funeral?

Or are those words always covered up, oozing untruth? 

Maybe, they’re the words of passion and heat? 

Said between, blissful, exultant kisses? 

Were these words in any situation real? 

Said to make us feel better, to feel okay, 

To make us feel that the world was right? 

Yet we keep spinning in our thoughts, beneath the heavens,

Residents of former Eden, spanning the globe. 

Beneath celestial lights, the greatest burning blasts of sun a flame. 

The stars we wish, mean there is and was a Neverland, 

Perhaps, a flying PeterPan to lead us? 

But Wendy, she wisely came back to earth; 

As Wendy, I stay grounded in reality. 

In a necklace around my neck, 

Wearing pixie dust, my hope —

That anyone can learn to fly, and one day find their forever home.

That any child has a home, where they are loved and safe. 

Hoping no one is a lost boy, 

Not without support and a fighting spirit, 

To carry on; their feet on the ground like Wendy — the mother. 

——

Oh stars spinning round the earth, you glow brighter —

Than the pixie dust of tinkerbelle’s sacrifice. 

Brighter than the gleaming moon, off of Captain Hook’s hook, 

Gleam keener than the crocodile’s eyes,  who follows Hook relentlessly.

Who wants to run forever from crocodiles? 

When they have a taste for your flesh, 

They want to devour you whole and escape is a distant goal. 

In real life, they’re too many crocodiles, 

Beneath celestial beings of the universe, in shimmering luminescence. 

Exist terrible creatures of horror and disease, 

Of hate and harms if every kind.

Those whose souls are so filthy, 

You would think they could never be clean.

But the filthy harmers, are rather variant from Hook’s crocodile, 

Imagine the music playing when the Crocadile comes, Disney made famous. 

The ticking of the clock, the crocodile had eaten, 

The metaphor for time always clicking, 

It’s heels along with Captain Hook’s boots.

So we discover, even if we’re Peter Pan, 

Life is not Neverland; even in Neverland, time keeps on ticking by. 

We cannot fly with Tinkerbelle’s pixie dust, 

Everyone and everything ages; we cannot escape this, 

If we were created from a black hole — a Big Bang —

A gigantic vacuum in reverse. 

Maybe, we are as stars gleaming only a moment? 

Mere seconds in reality, than forever, dying out. 

Re-existing in our heavenly home, 

If we followed that one star to the Manger.

And even Peter Pan chose one day, 

To stay home in the real world. 

He realized in an epiphany, eternity was too long to live as a child. 

He saw eternities vastness, in his old -young eyes, 

And said most clearly: “One day I want to die.” 

——

Peter Pan (Disney) – Crocodile Music

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.