Sunday Photo Fiction: The Apparitions #flashfiction #WWII #amwriting #writing 


Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF. 

——

A Mixed Bag

——–

The submarines of old stood out in the San Diego Harbor as Carla walked Bruno and Velma the dachshunds. 

After tiring out both dogs, she paused to gaze at the submarines along the walkway. It didn’t appear as if any navy personnel had worked on them in over seventy-five-years. 

The subs were relics of WWII, but Carla knew many men had died and been terrified for their lives in such submarines. The US had used them effectively ‘island hoping’ to help defeat the Japanese, after Japan’s attack on Pearl Harbor. Of course, the bombs had sealed the deal. 

Suddenly, the dachshunds began to bark and yip ferociously. They pulled on their leashes willing Carla, their Mom, to go home. 

She gazed back at the submarines one last time and let out a frightened shriek. Upon the old submarine, a ghostly navy crew with 1940’s uniforms, walked atop the sub performing their duties. They stopped, noticing Carla, and turned to whistle at her as if she was some wartime doll for kicks

When she blinked again, the apparitions were gone. Carla decided she needed something stronger in her coffee this morning. Maybe she’d forget the coffee part altogether. 

——

©Mandibelke16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

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Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: Poem -Free Verse – “World’s in Books #amwriting #poetry


Thank you to Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW.

——–

TJ Paris

——

Leave me here; I don’t want to go back yet, 

Gigantic and prolific library,

Please, I beg, let me stay the night, explore.

The windows are huge, light the entire room.

Let me stay as day fades, using candlelight to read.

I’ve spotted mint condition editions, Mark Twain.

On the otherside I found, several books by Jane Austin, 

I can hardly breathe, there’s so much literature.

Nathanial Hawthornes, Scarlet Letter,

D.H. Lawrence, Sons and Lovers, found, 

You’re angry; I understand, go back to the hotel, 

Let me read as the sunsets, in black night.

You don’t understand all the world’s I’ve discovered, 

I walked in a simple library, found glory.

Paging through stories, even modern,

Saul Bellow’s Mr Samler’s Planet, found,

Stephen King and Margaret Atwood her —

I never liked so much as Harlequins,

Dated back to the nineteen-forties, fifties, 

A treasure I’ve found, it’s priceless, worth so–

Much more than all the gold, which ever was and is,

Leave me read dear, let me delight, in lands, 

We can never see, outside this hallowed sanctuary. 

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.