Notable Quotes: March Part Two 2018 #quotes #pinterest #notablequotes #mandibellesthoughts

Welcome to Part Two of































©Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

Photo Challenge: Fiction – Hung Out to Dry #photochallenge #fiction #MLMM

Thanks to NEKNEERAJ of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting the Photo Challenge Prompt. This is a piece from my writing class, as well.

Credit: Bleach Film

“I tried, but I don’t love you. I hate hurting you. I’m sorry I cheated.”

“Are you? How do you switch your emotions off like that? Like a light-switch?” Jen’s voice was shrill.

Michael met her eyes but refused to answer. She stumbled into the living-room deaf to his begging. The back door slammed and his admissions ravaged her heart. These new wounds bled, sucking the life from her body. He’d hung her out to dry.

Dizziness overcame her and Jen lay on the couch, head buried in a pillow. She tried to absorb her ex-fiancés words, but her stomach was queasy and a strange ache grew inside her. It clenched and tightened, a fist squeezing her heart. Michael’s insidious behavior, shocked her. Her thoughts circled and her conscience hammered until she couldn’t stop them from revealing missed clues.

Jen was overcome with a sense of hollowness. Tears stung, traveling down the plains of her face as she peered into the fireplace mirror eyes flared-red, swollen with flat-gray irises; she felt emotionless and weary. There would be no more sunrises in life, not now, not ever.

Her heart ached, and the tangible throbbing pulsed and amplified until she couldn’t hide. Sobs wracked Jen’s body. She shivered, even when she pulled over a thick throw. Michael’s festering splinter of betrayal infected her heart and savaged her; nothing could ease Jen’s suffering.

©Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

Three Line Tales: Fiction – “Nothing is Forever” #amwriting #flashfiction #3LineTales

Thanks to Sonya of Only 100 Words for hosting #3LineTales.

Credit: Frank McKenna via Unsplash

She sits, humming to herself, thread licked thin into the needles eye; her keen eyes once sharp, blurring. She double threads the needle, then ties a thick knot, whispering the words of a beloved song, bringing the needle point in and out and stitching the quilt together. She fingers her roses, dried and fragile, wanting to save them, but recognizing that nothing in this world is forever; not her favorite worn books, nor the last roses her husband gifted.

©Mandibelle16.(2018) All Rights Reserved.

Sunday Photo Fiction: The Creep #fiction #amwriting

Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting the February 11th, 2018 Edition of SPF. This is a bit of a longer piece. Written for a writer’s course, around 500 Words as opposed to 200 Words or less. I cleaned it up and changed the original a bit.

Credit: J. Carol Hardy

Charlene twists her hair. The potent drink on the bar is her fifth tequila shot in an hour. The hazy, dreamlike atmosphere in the crowded town bar confuses her. Most of the crowd puff away, smoke lingering in the air, twisting above her, a toxic dragon of cigarette stench.

An attractive singer who isn’t local, belts out tunes while strumming his guitar. His catchy music has Charlene humming, her fingers tapping to the rhythm.

When he plays a soft song, the crowd boos. Some men throw beer bottles that smash and scatter glass against the small stage’s back wall. The singer peers around the room, his eyes darting back and forth. A bouncer drags away one of the offenders and the singer resumes his music, belting out cheerful tunes once more.

Charlene chuckles. As per usual, the town bar echoes with boisterous laughter and harmless drunks telling tale tales. Then, the creep beside her, pokes her arm. “Drink it, drink the shot.”

She peers up at him and his putrid breath makes her sick. “I don’t want it. Go away.” He leers and Charlene shivers.

She turns, stumbles towards the cracked vinyl booth where her coat and purse lay. Grabbing them she fumbles, zipping up her coat. The creep follows her and pinches her chin, trying to pour the shot into her mouth.

Warm tequila dribbles from her lips, acrid as she chokes. “No more, I don’t want anymore.” She cuts off his words, the poison of the creep’s lizard-tongue. “I’m going home — alone.”

Charlene teeters, leaning against the worn bar. She presses her hands against the humid backs of people waiting to buy more drinks. In open places, she leans on the bar, tracing it’s antique carvings, the dents on its worn surface. Jerry, one of the bartenders, slides her a glass of water. She nods at him, and swallows, her throat aching.

Past the bar, Charlene leans against a lone stool at a table. The stool wobbles on splintering legs. She grits her teeth, than sucks out a sliver of wood from her thumb. A gift from the table top.

Head spinning, Charlene lands in the quiet of the shuffleboard area, dizzy against the table. She presses her phone, fingers clumsy as she sends for an Uber. She downs more water from her purse. With some clarity, she wanders through sweat-soaked bodies towards the main door.

In the chill of the night, the creep is somehow beside her, waiting to follow her into her Uber. She ignores him, hobbling to a bouncer. “He’s following me, make him go away. He put something in my drink.”

The lie slips out; she doesn’t care. The creep who bought her five shots scares her. The bouncer’s blue eyes bulge. “No problem, Miss. I’ll ensure you get into the Uber alone.”

The bouncer offers the creep free beer to go back inside, and Charlene shivers, the wind biting at her face as flurries fly. She falls asleep inside the Uber, and the driver helps her into her apartment on the third floor. He takes the key from her hand and unlocks her door as she offers him a scrunched five-dollar bill.

“It’s fine. I don’t need help.”

The driver shakes his head. “That man you were running from, he’s bad. He has a different woman drunk each weekend night; he drugs many of them. The bouncer’s my friend, and he made sure you got into my Uber. We’re trying to catch him, but this a**holes too experienced to leave much evidence.”

The fact that the creep could’ve drugged her for ‘real’ makes Charlene ill. She rushes to the kitchen sink, throwing up multiple times.

The Uber driver ‘Ahems’ behind her. “I’m going now. Will you be okay?’

She nods. “Thank God, you’re a good man.”

“Stop accepting drinks from weird strangers. Don’t lead guys like him on. You have to think before you accept more than one drink; especially, in a small town like ours.”

Charlene nods, collapsing on the floor. She knows she’s asleep, but a sharp tempo beats against her temples. She’s half-awake, restless, afraid of the nightmares seeping in; the creep’s leering grin and eyes of a predator.

©Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

Photo/Music Challenge: Sunlight Too #shortfiction #amwriting #dierksbentley

Thanks to NEKNEERAJ of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting PhotoChallenge 200. Also, thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for this last Friday’s Music Challenge “I’ll Be the Moon” by Dierks Bentley Ft. Maron Morris.

Credit: Justin Peters

“I’ll Be the Moon” by Dierks Bentley Ft. Maron Morris

It begins innocently. A few words, a few texts that turn into a few hundred messages. A few phone calls and coffees. A few drinks, and late night conversations. My phone lights up in the dark. “Where are you?”

“Come meet me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Kier, meet for a drink. For an hour, maybe two, maybe three.”

“Baby, I’m in.” I speed towards our favorite restaurant bar. Our relationship has never passed conversation. Eyes locked for eons, long enough to drown in each other’s presence.

Jovial talk and laughter echo as I open the worn door. I find you in the bar area, in are usual place. My pulse thumps louder and your smile lights up my heart. Elation and a sense of tranquility rushes through my veins.

You take a sip of your beer then, saunter over to greet me. Grabbing my cold hands, you warm them, caressing them before grazing the back of your hand against my cheek. Its silkiness stokes a fire, igniting embers inside me.

“Girl, you can’t take your eyes off me, can you?”

You chuckle and lean into me, forehead against my chest. “Yeah, I’ve been missing the sight of you. I keep thinking about you.”

Your words are sweet relief, and our first kiss overwhelms me. I grasp your vanilla scented hair in my fingers. Your lips brush mine over and over. I nip your bottom lip, and the clammer of voices and TV’s in the bar fade.

I’ve dreamt of kissing you often. Is it even real? Then, you moan and the kiss elevates, lips melding, and tongues meeting faster; passion burns brighter in us both. We’re lost until a waitress pokes my shoulder. Her sharp nail bites, and breaks our fog.

“Hey, Kier.”

“Oh, Brandy. We’re kind of busy. I stare at your swollen lips, and prepare to dive back in for more.

You move away slightly, gripping my shirt, eyes wide. There’s enough room for Brandy to half squeeze and wiggle between our bodies.

“Kier, you want a beer? You haven’t ordered. There’s specials on tap or do you want your regular?” Brandy presses her red lips together. She. wiggles her chest against my side. Her scoop neck t-shirt leaves cleavage bulging. But I’m not interested in her and never have been.

I peer at you, your biting your lip. Your eyes narrow at Brandy. “My regular drink’s fine, Brandy.”

She peers at you and freezes. You roll your eyes and she flushes. Her lips form a practiced fake smile. Brandy sways her hips, teetering back to the bar on red heels.

You burst out laughing and snuggle into my checked shirt and chest. Then, you pull my my face down towards your lips. Your hands sneak around my back, and stroke my back beneath my shirt.

“Mmm.” I can’t help moaning. Our lips clash, the sparks between us explode. I lead you back towards the booth, where no one will bother us.

We converse, and make-out as if we’re both sixteen. We laugh for hour, and I never want the night to end. When your ringtone, “House of the Rising Sun” goes off, ‘his name’ pops up on your caller ID. I stare at the floor, hiding my disappointment.

You brush your hand through my hair. “I’m sorry, it’s time to leave. I need to go home. ‘He’s’ wondering where I am.”

I hate your excuses, but sigh against your neck. I place small wet kisses up your neck towards your velvet earlobe. You giggle and push me away half-heartedly.

I grasp your small chin. “Ain’t no one gotta know. Please, Mer, one more kiss before you go.”

As you walk away, I admire your toned legs, your skirt swishing around your knees. You stop, turning your head back, and flash your sweet blue eyes at me. Your coy smile lingers in my mind as you saunter out the door. You don’t know how sexy you are, even when you’re leaving me behind.

I grumble to myself, stretching out in the booth. What are you doing? She’s married and it’s going to get complicated. Then, my heart comments. It’s already complicated, Kier, and you know it. You might as well see it through and see what happens.

Brandy strolls up to me, sliding her hand down my arm. She’s young with glossy black hair and whisky-colored eyes, but she has no substance. Her beauty has nothing on your mahogany curls, sparkling green eyes, and your plush pink lips.

She lacks your ironic sense of humor and innate sweetness. I push Brandy off me and drink my third beer. I imagine your silk skin in my arms, that we’re in a place where no one disturbs us until we say so.


A couple of days later you call me, distraught and weeping.

“I can’t do this to my husband, he loves me. We’ve ten-years together.” The weight of those years is in your voice. You’re audibly exhausted and frustrated; your tears pierce through me.

“So, he’s cheating, again?”

“Yeah, his fifth affair, that I know about.”

“Ten years, huh? I don’t wanna be a liar, Mer. And I don’t wanna be a fool, but I hate keeping our affair a secret. I’m sorry he’s cheating, but you deserve love too. Give us a chance. Leave ‘him.’ I would never cheat on you, and we’ll be so much better than you and ‘what’s his name.'”

“We are more. You’ve always been more to me than him, even when you left.” You’re whispering. I wander if you’re hiding in the laundry room, so ‘he’ doesn’t hear our call.

Your voice wobbles. “You’re all I have, ‘he’ doesn’t know me as you know me. He doesn’t love the me from long ago, or the me today. Kier, please always love me, and don’t let me go. Someday soon, this will all work out.”

I shake my head. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I don’t care anymore. “Okay, Mer, for now our relationship can remain a secret. I will do this for you, if you want me to. Can you do this? Juggle your husband’s infidelities and us? Sometime soon you have to make up your mind. A man that treats you like ‘he‘ does isn’t worth your time.”

You cry louder. “I never thought I’d see you after all these years. I can’t let you go again. It ripped me apart when you left. It was the reason I married ‘him.’ I didn’t have to think about the hole in my heart from you, with ‘him;’ at least until his first affair.”

” I never meant to hurt you, but I had to leave, to see the world. Now I’m home, for good.”

“I’m glad. Are we going to meet tonight? ‘He’s’ going out to see her.”

” How about somewhere in-between where you and I live? If that’s what you want, we can meet as often as we’re able. I still feel as if you’re leavin’ me in the dark, accepting an affair. I want more. For now, he can be your sun and I’ll be your moon.”

“You’re so lyrical. I love that about you.”

“Sometimes I am. But, it makes sense. He has your days, and I have your nights, time permitting. But what happens when the two times intersect? He can be the sun and I’ll be the moon, for now, but not forever.”


It’s a lavish hotel with swanky modern minimelest decor. The bed is swathed in white, with a mattress so comfortable you could sink into it. You’re stretched out, our skin flush and our limbs tangled after hours of loving. I kiss your forehead, brushing my fingers through your mahogany curls.

Suddenly, ‘his’ ringtone goes off. Your phone lights up.

I kiss your cheeks and your sweet lips.

You bury your face in the pillow, moaning. “Gotta go. He’s wondering where I am.”

“I know, but it still ain’t easy. Just tonight, stay longer. Stay for the whole night. Say you’re at your friend’s place having a girl’s night after a hard day. Call your friend, Liz. She’ll back you up. Tell ‘him’ you forgot to phone or text him earlier.”

“I don’t forget to tell him stuff like that.”

“Maybe, you do, only this once.”

You giggle, “Someone’s creative tonight. You must really want me to stay. I want to stay too.” You smile, plush lips brushing mine, before placing your head on my chest. I wonder if you can hear how fast my heart beats when I’m entwined with you.

You raise your head, your green eyes alight. You kiss me hard, not soft but with need. There’s desperation in your kiss.

You climb on top of me. “One more time before I go.”

I grin. Our kisses and caresses multiply, tightening the cord of our connection. Later, you’re gone, but I’m lay awake in the early morning hours.

My mind won’t stop circling. Tomorrow, she’ll be waking up beside him. She’ll tell him that you loves him, but I know, Mer, doesn’t mean it. She loves me she told me so. She doesn’t love him at all, she never has.


For over five months now, we continue to meet whenever possible. Unexpectedly, we have the whole weekend to ourselves. ‘He’s’off on a business trip. You told me ‘he’ has a new mistress, affair number six. I don’t understand how he doesn’t know he has the best of all women in you.

You’re splayed on top of me and we’re both gasping for breath. You pull the blankets up around us as our sweat cools; your head fitted in the crook of my neck until you raise it.

You bite your lip, peering at me. “In my mind when I’m looking at him, and when I think of him, I don’t see us continuing on like this. We’ve had ten years, but ten years of what? Ten years of lies and deceit, now on both our parts.”

I rub your back. You talk about him a lot some nights. Thinking aloud, attempting to solve the riddle. How do you let your husband know you want a divorce, that there was never any love between either of you.

You kiss my neck, then my heart. “I’ve been lying about loving him for years. I can’t stand all his affairs, but are we any better? We’re having our own affair now? I feel so guilty, but at the same time, I don’t care anymore. He deserves it.”

“I hate this.” I don’t mean to sound harsh, but I have to tell you. ” He’s always the elephant in the room. No matter what you think, he’s never known the real you. He doesn’t see you for you, or the false life you both live. But girl, I see you and know the truth. I see you clearer than he ever will.”

I flip you over, resting on top of your sweet body and my forearms. “Don’t let this be a secret any longer. I don’t want to only be the moon; I want to be sunlight too.”

I kiss you tangling my lips and tongue with yours, channeling my will into our loving making. Between gasps you whisper, “Tuesday, I’ll see my lawyer.”

My eyes widen and you giggle, kissing my joyful grin. I tickle you, then my hands make the familiar journey down you alabaster freckled skin.

Before you leave I try to encourage you. “I’m no longer the moon, but sunlight too. I’m every time of day with you.”

You kiss me, holding our heads nose to nose. ” You’re the sun and the moon and everything in-between.”

©Mandibelle16.(2018) All Rights Reserved.

Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: The Heart Breaker #amwriting #flashfiction

Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW.

Credit: Yinglan Z.

The volcanic crater was a disfigured heart. Chance thought it resembled his own.

“Where are you going?” Chance shrugged. “Going to work for a month.”

“It’s Valentine’s Day, no one wants to be alone today, not even me. I could have any man I want, but I chose you.” Giselle’s lively green eyes gleamed.

It was then he noticed the name tattooed on her wrist, within an ombre pink heart. “Who the Hell is Robert, and why’s his name on your wrist?”

“I’ll tattoo what I like on my body.” Chance strode towards Giselle, tilting her chin up so she’d meet his gaze.

“Robert’s the guy you’ve been sleeping with? The one you promised to break it off with, I assume?”

She laughed, grasping Chance’s hand. “We got to talking and had too much wine. Now, we both have tacky tattoos, but you know well Robert’s nothing. I haven’t seen him in a month.”

“You said it was over five months ago?”

Giselle’s bottom lip quivered. “It was, but we ran into each other that once.” He could see her pale cheeks redden; she was lying.

“Robert can have you; I’m done.”

Her eyes flooded with tears.

“I know well your crocodile tears. Don’t be here when I get home, Giselle, never again.”

©Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

Collage Prompt: Poem – Quadrille – “Earnest but Deadly” #amwriting #poetry #MLMM

Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting the Sunday Writing Collage Prompt.

Credit: MindLovesMisery’s Menagerie

Strange beauty,

Admired, rejected;

Reflected, introspective —

Burning out of control.

Lovely, sweet,

But if you touched,

Her hand —

You erupted in fire;

Flames her tears,

Couldn’t douse.

She’s earnest,

Desiring closeness.

A friend, a lover;

But some of us,

Are cursed.

To yearn forever,

And hurt those —

We wish to love.

©Mandibelle16.(2018) All Rights Reserved

Sunday Photo Fiction: Cracking Into Place #amwriting #flashfiction

Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF.

Credit: Dawn Miller

Danny’s back pulsed and ached. Pain like fire raced through his lower back and centered in his shoulder blades and neck. He had spent the day hauling wood chips for his cabin.

Strolling inside, he sorted through the mail, rolling his shoulders and stretching his back, praying the sharp pains would cease.

Anne peered up from the kitchen stove. “You have all the wood chips hauled into the shed?”

“Yeah, we’re set until summer. I pulled some muscles, though.”

“Hmmm, did you stretch before?”

“It’ll be fine after a hot shower.”

Anne rolled her eyes. “I hope so. You always make fun of my yoga, but it gives me flexibility and stretches my soar muscles. You should try a short video tonight.”

She flipped through the saved videos on the Youtube app on her phone, pausing at ‘Yoga for Back Pain.’ She handed Danny her phone. “Do this video and you’ll feel much better.”

“It’s fine, really.” He kissed Anne’s cheek, setting down her phone.

The next morning Danny attempted to get up, but he couldn’t raise himself into a sitting position, not even a reclined one. Whenever he tried, fiery pain shot through his entire back and shoulders.

Anne gazed at him half-awake, before sitting up. She guided his arms, upper back, and shoulders in ‘yogesque’ movements. The burning pain lessened with a few clicks and snaps as she stretched out his torso.

When his lower back cracked into place, Danny moaned. He sat up, than stood with ease.

Splaying out on her side of the bed, Anne closed her eyes. “Now that your back is good, you can make us both breakfast. I deserve breakfast in bed.”

©Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

Music Challenge/ Photo Challenge: Poem – Free Verse – “Way Down Below” #amwriting #poetry #musicchallenge #photochallenge

Music Challenge #18 by MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie is “Way Down We Go” by Kaleo and Im combining with Photo Challenge by NEKNEERAJ of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie .

Credit: Charlotte Gonzalos

“Way Down We Go” by Kaleo

Way down we go,

Can’t lift us up oh, oh.

Way down below, beneath the blows,

We’ll hide our woes and find our souls.

But we may sink in mire as we expire,

As way down we go,

Trying to find life’s flow;

So, love me slow or love me not.

Don’t run me down, down with wild blows.

Way down we go,

‘Cause say we, way down we fall, oh, oh.

Way down together,

Far down below and I respire;

Our breath so close, that lips conspire.

To go down further, disperse our woes,

In life we try to avoid what hurts most.

Tell me, do we get what we deserve?

It’s better when I’ve got your back,

When your behind mine, and you hold me close.

Swaying back and forth,

In rhythm, and life,

‘Cause way down we fall,

Way down we go, oh, oh.

Here we go to the journey home,

Though down is such a far way to go —

We’re not afraid.

There’s nothing gloomy,

When your hand’s in mine,

Electric currents wired;

We hold are flow, the energy grows.

Are hearts on fire, we won’t let go;

No matter that, way down we go, oh, oh.

We won’t let our held hands go,

Your grip is tight and your eyes they glow.

Your lips they lift and your pulse beats mad,

Nothing this good could be called so bad.

It’s tough, sometimes when you explode,

When the down it holds,

When I let go and hide;

But new days keep dawning with azure Skies,

No matter that, way down we go —

We rise to conquer towards the surface,

Way down we go, heads held high,

And I promise you’re the one,

I’ll go to the ends of he works for —

So, way down we go, together into forever.

Digging ourselves out of holes,

Patching our broken souls.

Life’s not permanent so while I have you, we go, and go,

Way down so slow, oh, oh.

To grasp each moment, string it out–

To hold such love and not implode.

Way down we go —

No longer running each other down.

Resting in the hollows, the caves, and valleys,

Exploring the roots and tearing out the weeds.

Let’s say we, go way down, to the garden of glee,

And those happy places we render, and feel free —

When life is way down,

We never let go;

Despite falling down, we go, oh, oh.

Never afraid when we go together, rising through it.

Way down we go oh, oh.

But how wonderful it is to be struggling as one,

Down low, or dreaming of sumptuous flight,

Freedom more than we deserve.

©Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

Sunday Photo Fiction: If Animals Could Talk #amwriting #flashfiction

Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF. Meant to have this out for last week, but I couldn’t edit it in time.

Credit: Alistair Forbes

“Jasper, come here.” Daisy nuzzled against him and he purred. She wagged her tale then let it slump.

“What’s wrong?”

“Same old. I’m not a house pet anymore. The family won’t let me inside.”

“The outside is good. You taught me the family running our animal sanctuary are nice so they must have a good reason wanting you to live outside. Those hunters shot me and would’ve skinned me if the family hadn’t found me first.”

“I like the family, Daisy, they feed me raw meet and sometimes, live rabbit. Also, they let me run in the field and I always return home.”

Daisy leaned against Jasper. “When the family found me I didn’t trust anyone. The human, Greg, threw me out in a garbage bag, in the trash. I chewed my way out and the boy, Matthew, found me. ”

Jasper stretched. “So, what’s the problem. You have Matthew and you have me. We’re all part of our pack.”

“Well, I used to be an indoor dog in a warm house. Sometimes Matthew let’s me inside his room, but he’s not home a lot.”

“I’ve always live outside. It’s better sleeping beneath the stars.”

“Yes, but you’re a cheetah, Jasper. I’m a dog. Matthew said I was a Dachshund. I love snuggling with the family as much as I love snuggling with you, but I’m not used to the cold.”

Jasper laughed. “I forget you’re the size of a small cub. I’ll keep you warm, Daisy. I think the family keeps you outside for me. Even though your sad, I’m glad you’re here so I’m not alone. I even saved you raw meat.”

“Oh, boy!” Daisy almost fainted, salivating as Jasper dropped a raw steak in front of her.

©Mandibelle16.(2017) All Rights Reserved.