100 Word Wednesdays, Fiction, Memories/Childhood, My Thoughts, Photography/Visual Art, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

100 Word Wednesday: “Heart Break” #amwriting #flashfiction 


Thanks to Bikurgurl for hosting #100WordWednesday! 

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Credit: Jennifer Pallian

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Everything had to be perfect. Kayla didn’t want this to be a one time affair. It was 1:00 p.m., and Tye had awoken hearing noises in Kayla’s kitchen. 

He lumbered in, taking a seat at the island where Kayla had prepared a tray with ‘hair of the dog.’

“Morning Tye, you probably have a killer hang over at your age,” Kayla teased.

Tye drank both drinks from the tray. “Feeling much better now. Where’s your brother? Did he crash here too?”

“We, no Tye, it was just us. Christian stayed at Mimi’s last night.”

“He’s a lucky guy. Mimi’s a fine woman.”

Kayla frowned, “What about last night? Aren’t you a ‘lucky guy’ too, Tye?”

“What about it?”

“Does it mean anything to you? You told me you loved me.”

Tye was silent, “From the moment I saw you in that short black dress . . . I don’t remember much. I drank a lot. It can’t mean anything, Kayla, even if I’ve always had a thing for you. You’re Christian’s sister, he’d kill me.”

“Not if you actually loved me. If you felt the way I feel about you.”

“Doesn’t matter –”

“It does matter because I’m twenty eight-years old, a grown woman. If last night meant nothing, just say it. Because I’m damn sure you’re lying when you say you don’t remember.”

Tye rubbed his face his eyes dazed. He lumbered back to the bedroom and began dressing.

He wouldn’t look at her and Kayla confronted him, catching him off guard. She pushed him hard and kept pushing, attempting to get a reaction from Tye when he grabbed both her hands holding her still. 

“I’ve loved you since I was fourteen. You may have not loved me then, but I’ve seen the way you’ve looked at me since I turned twenty-five. You like me a lot and you know it,” Kayla cried. 

She struggled, but Kye wouldn’t let go of her hands. He pressed his lips to hers, brushing them back and forth before pulling back. “This can’t happen again, Kayla. You know that, I’m engaged.” 

” Lisa doesn’t love you. You don’t owe that harpy anything.”

“I do owe it to her, we’ve been together five years.”

Tyler brushed his thumb against her lips and let go of Kayla. He left her bedroom to put on his dress shoes at the front door. “I wish I could be with you. But Lisa’s pregnant. If I don’t marry her she’ll never let me see my daughter, ever.” 

Kayla blanched. She tried not to burst into a crying jag as she held her throat feeling her breath constrict. She gazed at Tye, “Please tell me I wasn’t just some girl you slept with.” 

“I wasn’t that drunk, Kayla. I lied. Last night meant the world, but that’s why we have to both forget it.”

The door shutting echoed long after Tye left. Tears dripped down her cheeks as Kayla sat on the floor, a ferocious pain eating her alive inside as she wept. 

——–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

My Thoughts

Vintage verse – A Bird came down the Walk by Emily Dickinson


Autumn Sky Poetry sharing my Monat fav Poem “A Bird Came down the Walk” by Emily Dickinson!

Autumn Sky Poetry Daily

A Bird came down the Walk

A Bird came down the Walk—
He did not know I saw—
He bit an Angleworm in halves
And ate the fellow, raw,

And then he drank a Dew
From a convenient Grass—
And then hopped sidewise to the Wall
To let a Beetle pass—

He glanced with rapid eyes
That hurried all around—
They looked like frightened Beads, I thought—
He stirred his Velvet Head

Like one in danger, Cautious,
I offered him a Crumb
And he unrolled his feathers
And rowed him softer home—

Than Oars divide the Ocean,
Too silver for a seam—
Or Butterflies, off Banks of Noon
Leap, plashless as they swim.

by Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)

Photo by Christine Klocek-Lim

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Animals/Pets, Children/YA/Family, Current Events, dVerse, Free Verse, Memories/Childhood, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nature, Nonfiction, Photography/Visual Art, Poetry, Relationship, Travel, Writing Challenges

Tale Weavers: Prompt -Free Verse – “Today’s Your Day” #poetry #dVerse #taleweavers


Thanks to Lorraine of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting Tale Weavers #131 on the theme of “making it your day.” I’m combining this prompt with Lillian of Poetic’s Pub #dVerse prompt of “seeking some shade.” 


Hammock Summer Day Katya Austin
Credit: Katya Austin via UnSplash

Today’s your day,

Go outside, love it,

Take in the sun’s —

Pure golden rays.

Graze through,

Fresh markets,

Ripe fruit,

Crisp vegetables.

Today’s your day,

Make something of it.

Inhale,

Fresh air;

Grass blades,

From mowed lawns.

The scent of,

Salty ocean breeze;

Scent of sand,

Sunscreen lotion.

Aroma of forest,

Rot, decay,

Contrast with bloom,

Flourishment.

Today’s your day,

Laugh, love,

Profoundly.

Take photos,

Future memories.

Hold your honey,

Close.

Kiss your,

Children’s sticky cheeks.

Run, play —

With them,

Until you’ve exhausted them.

Chase your dog,

Doing zoomies.

Today’s your day,

Spend it, however,

You please.

Sit under shade,

Of oldest tree,

On soft blankets.

Read an —

Immersing book.

Drink sangria,

Secretly.

Snack on chocolate,

On fleshy pink,

Watermelon.

Today’s your day,

Live it vivaciously,

For there’ll  never,

Be another day,

Same as this —

One’s been.


©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Basic Trimeter, dVerse, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer, Health, My Thoughts, Nature, Poetry, Relationship, Travel, Writing, Writing Challenges

Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: Poem – Trimeter – “Beach Life” #amwriting #flashfiction #poetry #dVerse 


Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW. Also thanks to Frank Hubeny of Poet’s Pub #dVerse prompt doing a poem in trimeter. 

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Credit: TJ Paris

——–

Out on Kayaks arrived on beach, 

Where topaz sea foam ocean waves crashed.

Topaz turns Santorini blue soft

Calm waves shallow bring us, into shore. 

Shedding life jackets and wetsuits left, 

Zippers released quick; swimsuits worn, 

Nothing but comfort for us here now. 

We lie on white sands relaxed our — 

Bodies tired, cleansing breath respired.

After hours paddling through far out —

Seas where the ocean waves fought us hard.

Tangling our fingers we absorb sun-

Light; we dry out and sleep, towels, 

Our beds as we’re dead still, post kayake —

Slumber, sunglasses cover poppy —

Eyes in drugged sleep; we’re contented souls, 

The soothing lull of tide rhythm of —

Our beach life desired most until, 

We’re forced to return to our home. 

To the city, our condo precious

Tranquil and never unloved but; 

For moments we lay here at peace our, 

Lives restored by kayaking and such, 

Lazy naps in ocean sands adored. 

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Actor/ Actress, Fiction, Licentia - aabbccddeeAA, BBffgghhiiAA, CCjjkkllmmAA, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Nature, Nonfiction, Photography/Visual Art, Poetry, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

Sunday Writing: Poem – Licentia – ” Plastic Drowns” #amwriting #poetry 


Thanks to ScribblersDip of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this last Sunday’s Writing Prompt quote/collage.

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Credit: ScribblersDip MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie

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“Stuck in a generation where loyalty is just a tattoo, love is just a quote, and lying is the new truth.” 

——-

Queen Bee they said, she’s so unashamed —

Games insane, thinks she’s Queen, now breath wanes. 

Her long voluminous eyelash extensions sweep, 

Dyed hair weeps silver strands on botoxed cheeks. 

Ingenuine smile teeth veneers and braces;

Blond bombshell Marilyn’s plastic twin races. 

Against the clock to keep her youth, nips tucks —

Child’s facelift, brow lift microbladed must. 

Hearts and flower tattoos, she’s loved a few but, 

Never many, not one recalled past lust. 

Queen Bee, they said, she’s so unashamed —

Insane games, poor Queen drowns, now her breath wanes. 

——-

Her long voluminous eyelash extensions sweep, 

Dyed hair weeps silver strands on botoxed cheeks. 

Today she thinks she’ll dye her hair as red, 

As the hair on princess Ariel’s head. 

Red, red with gown to rival ocean’s surf, 

Sea-green, topaz-mint silk fabric unearthed. 

Some taffeta so dress floats, one-strap to bare, 

More skin, her bodice diamond encrusted layers. 

Lenses to make her eyes seafoam green dots, 

Corset pulled tight, plastic chest pulled up-top. 

Queen Bee they said, she’s so unashamed —

Insane games, poor Queen drowns, now her breath wanes. 
——

Ingenuine smile veneers and braces;

Blond bombshell Marilyn’s plastic twin races. 

Thought of need for actual dental design, 

Never entered mind, pristine teeth inclined. 

No thoughts of cost, credit cards, her wealth, 

All for looks, a beauty drowning herself. 

Procedures, weekly treatments, face, body; 

Hair coiffed, eyebrows plucked, tinted; applauded —

By those like her who in shallowness confound. 

In ankle deep depth succumb and all drown. 

Queen Bee they said, she’s so unashamed —

Insane game, poor Queen drowns, now her breath wanes. 

——

Against the clock to keep her youth, nips tucks —

Child’s facelift, eyebrows high microbladed must.

Could one drown, sputter, choke on water just —
Because they’re steeped in procedures, a must?

Plastic to fill the cracks where natural beauty, 

Flourished; sweet, beautiful, but not enough, 

Now fakeness hides inner trauma, no trust. 

Grew up in the snake pit of Divas; ‘subtly — 

Enhanced,’ language unknown, tears burn eyes, flood —

Place she can’t be saved, where the cost is blood. 

Queen Bee they said, she’s so unashamed —

Insane games, poor Queen drowns, now her breath wanes

——-

Hearts and flower tattoos, she’s loved a few but, 

Never many, any one recalled past lust. 

Her love was herself, no one else mattered, 

Life reveals and such vanity shatters. 

Until she realizes the heart must be built, 

For the body ages becomes as ash, silt. 

She can fake youth or be classically

Lovely, elegant, forever dazzling.

Graceful aging,with minor repairs, 

Youth found in caring, she’ll not drown despaired. 

Queen Bee they said, she’s so unashamed —

Insane games, poor Queen drowns, now her breath wanes
——–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, Haiku - 7,7,5, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Poetry, Three Line Tales, Writing, Writing Challenges

Three Line Tales: Poem – Haikus – “Pathways” #amwriting #poetry #3LineTales 


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

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Credit: Mahdis Mousavi via UnSplash

———

Staircases shudder and move, 

Clear pathways closed off too soon, 

Sweat drips. 

——-

Up or down another pathway, 

Trapped, directions crossed, tired, no —

Way out. 

——-

Resigned, head spinning, exit —

Signs, not chased knowing here lies, 

My fate. 

——-

©Mandibelke16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Current Events, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Memories/Childhood, My Thoughts, Photography/Visual Art, Three Line Tales, Writing, Writing Challenges

Three Line Tales: Friday Night Lights #amwriting #fiction #3LineTales


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

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Credit: Arnaud Mesureur

—-

Far off in the distance we gaze at the fluorescent lights glowing, electric candles vibrant and magnificent as we sit on our roof, watching the players tackle each other on the mega screen. The announcer’s voice booms and the sky lights up even more with the pop and scattered explosion of our team’s colors in fireworks; they’ve scored another touch down so we toast to their success. 

When the game is won the fluorescent lights remain luminiscient in the darkness and accompanied by the brilliance of the stars; sometimes we wish we had tickets to that game now hours ago, but our view from the roof of our house is priceless — it also doesn’t cost $20.00 a beer, not even $20.00 a case. 

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Bop - 6 lines, refrain, 8 lines, refrain, 6 lines, refrain, dVerse, History, My Thoughts, Nature, Nonfiction, Poetry, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

Poem: Bop – “For A Spark” #poetry #dVerse #amwriting 


Thanks to Paul Scribbles of Poet’s Pub for hosting the #dVerse prompt on “the end.” 

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Credit: Roksolana Zasiadko via Unsplash

——–

The end is never the end. It’s always the the beginning of something.” ― Kate Lord Brown, The Perfume Garden

——-

There once was a beginning, but for us, I think;

We never were, until we were, created in a blink.

Once upon a time there was the Word, 

The Word was God; It was with Him to be heard. 

All was darkness but the Word was the light 

The Word was the cure, it was omniscient insight.

Every spark becomes darkness, but His fire brings dawn. 

In the first beginning, his light lit uncountable sparks, 

That eternal, all-knowing ‘start’ burning through the dark. 

Where beginnings take place; journeys are revealed, 

Where life is born, ideas form, the masked are unconcealed. 

Beginings that inspire and conspire to grow and leap,  

Sparks choosing to expire, or to burn on in the deep.

There is the ‘lighter’ of the spark and the ‘spark’ itself;

Knowledge too that sparks turned cinders, have eternal help. 

Every spark become darkness, but His spark brings dawn. 

Who knows of endings but that they’re already won, 

The ‘Candle-snuffer’ futile fights, his end already come.  

He decided his ending forever, when our spark was new, 

He’s the one temptation slithered, damnation to all construed. 

The eternal light is present, no cinders who ask will end up ash, 

Faith is fuel that forever burns, so the term ‘end’ has passed.   

Every spark becomes darkness, but His spark brings dawns. 

 ——–

©Mandibelle16 (2017) All Rights Reserved. 


Animals/Pets, Books, Flash Fiction, History, Movie Reviews, My Thoughts, Nature, Sunday Photo Fiction, Writing, Writing Challenges

Sunday Photo Fiction: The Horsemen’s Head #flashfiction #amwriting #SleepyHollow


Thanks to Alastair Forbes for hosting SPF. 

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Credit: A Mixed Bag – Alistair Forbes

——–

Ichabode Crane was observing the dim forest when he noticed the bald head buried beneath the tree of death. Each morning it was Ichabode’s job to discover what the headless horseman had left behind from his nights decapitating helpless citizens.  

Today he found two headless corpses half-buried. He shivered thinking of the literal trail of blood that often followed the horseman. 

Though Ichabod was a medical doctor, he’d never found any heads attached to the bodies the horseman discarded. His heart pounded and he began to sweat as he clawed the head from the ground with his fingers. 

The hair felt dirty and greasy. The waxen skin was warm and he was sure the head had soulless eyes beneath its lids. While he stared, Ichabod’s hands shook. The blood running from the head’s eyes, suddenly, caught his attention as they began to open of their own accord. 

Coal eyes with pupils as red as poppies, alerted Ichabod this head belonged to the horseman. Ichabod drank from his trusty flask, whiskey and opium to numb him. 

But perhaps he drank too much. When he awoke, the head lay on his lap and Ichabod rested against the horrid tree. The moon exposed him and his opium veil faded. He felt too alert. The head’s mouth fell open revealing carnivorous teeth. 

Soon, the thundering footsteps of the black horse and the armed body of the headless horseman could be heard. He screeched as the horseman took one slice at his neck, but then, Ichabod offered the horseman the head. 

The horseman dropped his sword and went to his knees on the ground. He took the head in his gnarled hands and placed it on his neck. The horseman growled, a sound of rage in a demonic tongue. 

He gazed at Ichabod, “Run, go now. I will spare you for returning my head. Everyone else in Sleepy Hollow will join me in death.” 

Ichabod had never considered himself a coward but he ran anyways, never peering behind him as screams filled the night. 

——-
©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.