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

100 Word Wednesday:  Owning His Body #amwriting #flashfiction #100WordWednesday 


Thanks to Bikurgurl for hosting #100WordWednesdays.

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Credit:Felix Russel; Saw via UnSplash

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Images, the vines, the flowers, the tribal tattoos, marking his body their presence is defining. A farmer’s son covered his body in tattoos, to lay claim to a canvas, a territory, beneath a sunless sky. But bruises so dark, red and vivid purple used to cover his limbs, his torso, his face, and even his hands. So when he chooses bright ink, a part of him heals and the bruises fade. With each work of art he becomes stronger and he returns home, sheltered by his images. He’s happy because his body is his own and no father can abuse or mother can deny; tattoos are his stories accompanying him gently as the wheat sways in the field. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Poetry, Quatrain -- abab abba ccdc dddd., Relationship, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

Photo Challenge: Poem – Quatrains – “Tale of The Floating Bride” #poetry #amwriting 


Thanks to NEEKNERAJ of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s photo challenge prompt. 

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Credit: Zhangjinga.com

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Enchanting child in slumber keep, 

Red hair surrounds you as you sleep. 

I wait for you to wake from your dreams, 

No longer a porcelain doll preened. 

*****

A wedding gown white lace so frothy, 

Mother hoped your match was lofty.

That you’d found your life partner, 

Your prince, your man, for life to start.

*****

But day by day you grew sad, 

When pressed with his kisses ran. 

Empty feeling inside you grew, 

Like a butterfly away flew.

*****

Mischievous child, pain grew, 

His fist at your face straight-on flew. 

Hiding the bruises with powder,

Not even concealer shrouds

*****

Pride vital to you, tiny doll, 
Escaped; no one to catch your fall.
Fly in dreams with delicate wings, 

Winter ends, it’s soon your spring. 

*****

Gather your courage –call it off;

Don’t marry him, don’t be soft.

In front of the crowd, show each cut, 

Let them see bruises, you must. 

*****

So they know an abuser, 

Isn’t good enough, he’s a loser. 

He broke your velvet wings, 

Your sanity held by strings. 

*****

But it was too late even then, 

The lake too close; so your end.

Now you float, butterfly who swims, 

Eternity of light your win. 

*****

We tried to save a doll of glass, 

But on death she shattered, passed. 

Down below the water’s dark depth,

She’s tranquil, free; although, she leapt. 

*****

Mind too distorted, destroyed, 

Lover’s hands threw her like a toy.

World tough; his madness changed them both, 

In Heaven she smiles free to float. 

*****

He mourns her death each day, each drink, 

Pretty soon his rage him too sinks. 

Accidents happen to the unaware, 

She pulled him in, drowned his despair. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

My Thoughts, Nature, Nonfiction, Pinterest, Quotes, Three Line Tales, Writing, Writing Challenges

Three Line Tales: Words Of Daisies #3Linetales #quotes #pinterest #goodreads


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

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Credit: Bruno Nascimento via UpSplash

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“Behold

the azure sea in front of you,

the turquoise sky above you,

the amber mountain beneath your feet,

and the golden daisy in your hands.

How are you not the richest person on earth?” 

― Khang Kijarro Nguyen (Good Reads) 

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2. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Acrostic, Fiction, My Thoughts, OctPoWriMo, Poetry, Writing, Writing Challenges

#OctPoWriMo – Day 29 – Acrostic – “A Bad Day” #poetry #amwriting


Day 29 Prompt: Upside Down
“Have you ever had one of those days where everything feels upside down? Tell us about your weirdest day.”

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http://www.pinterest.com

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Upside down day, things haven’t gone my way; I keep trying —

Providing for my family and doing all I can, but today, I can do nothing right. 

Slid on the steps, took a tumble, I’m okay; but I’ve a a few painful bruises and —

I wasnt listening today in the meeting, and usually no one cares but today the boss was mad. 

Desiring for the day to end, but the clock kept ticking slower and slower, the more I watched. 

End of the day finally came and I went home, through traffic; for the first time ever, I crawled right into bed.

Dreaming was nice, I felt free at last; but as I slept, dreams turned to nightmares.

On my mind, was my bad day at work, the extra time I have to put in, to finish everything that needs doing.

Words fail me when I half-awake, my kids are loud and jumping on the bed –they’re hungry and Dad won’t make dinner. 

Nodding, drowsy, I reach for my purse and hand them forty-dollars for pizza and salad, before sliding back into my dreams; today I need sleep. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Lists, My Thoughts, Pinterest, Quotes, Short Stories And Serial Stories

Notable Quotes October 2016 Part One #quotes #pinterest


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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, Free Verse, My Thoughts, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Writing

Poem: Free Verse – “Second Chance Child” #amwriting #fiction #poetry #adoption


http://www.wallpaperlayer.com

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Ageless pages, in words transform, 

Who are you to be so adorable? 

Dreaming in daylight, waking in sleep;

Cherub cheeks and supple skin, 

Bright eyes so blue and curious, 

A baby giggling, gurgling.

So mysterious, you came from —

A woman who wouldn’t mother you;

Maybe she couldn’t? Or perhaps, she refused?

But I wonder how she shut herself off from you? 

Leaving your beautiful face, curious reflection

Your cutesy, adorable infant-self, 

Imprinting on another woman.

We all know you’re little, need protection, 

We need remember you’re delicate, cuddle you close.

She didn’t know; how could she not?

How did she leave? 

And when you were adopted and grew,

Did you care anymore? Yet being so small, 

The new woman before you, you loved.

She became the lights in your eyes, the stars in your sky, 

Until half-grown one day, walking with friends, 

You overheard parents talking of you –adopted? 

Such conflicting feelings and such anger, 

Wrapped in teenaged angst. 

Why didn’t she want you? 

She gave you away;

You’re mad at the woman who raised you, 

Your real mother, but not by blood.

Because in your adopted mother’s face you see, 

The face of the one who left you alone.

On those cold wet cement steps (you learn),

Before you could do anything.

Defenceless, you imagine yourself a babe, 

Left to die — or be found by someone horrible. 

But you are here and here you are

The day you find your first mother, 

The biological one you loath, 

You see the drug affects, the needle tracts, 

On her arms, the scars, and the abuse. 

Forty-something woman seems as if she’s sixty hard-lived.

Skin as leather, smoker’s cough, raspy voice, 

Shows you a picture of a much prettier woman, 

Her so young, walking the wrong path. 

Now she’s smiling and patting your hand, 

So relieved you’ve come to see her now. 

One wonderful and beautiful thing she birthed. 

She erases the rage you’ve acquired, 

Makes you feel not so mad because you know, 

She didn’t want you to be her one day.

So she did what she had to do for youshe sacrificed. 

And you mourn for her, for you —

All the time you wasted hating.

When at home lives your real mother,

And before you lies a stranger,

Your biological connection to her dying.

A string formed between you of DNA;

A reason she gave you up, 

To live and thrive through life a better way.

So, young one, I hope you do. 

Your second chance, 

Has always been yours

—-

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, My Thoughts, Poetry, Prose Poetry, Relationship, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Writing

Fiction/Poem: Prose Poetry – “Screened in Darkness” #introtopoetry #fiction #prosepoetry 


The Poetry 101 prompt is a screen of any kind using enjambment. I’m also incorporating a word from The Daily Post, Darkness.

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http://www.pinterest.com

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Behind the screen I keep myself veiled, a Japanese screen with paper too thin and I keep on wondering if he’ll look, wishing Luke wouldn’t because I know I’ll be doing the walk of shame back home. And I don’t know why but I’m so ashamed, the wine went to my head last night; I knew better. Luke was attractive, he was kind; for a moment I thought he cared more about me than a few statistics and few words; but this morning, Luke left his house empty but for his cleaning lady and cook who made me crepes and said, “You need to get ready to go home. Mr. Luke doesn’t like his lady friends to be at his home if he decides to drop by at lunch to take the dog out for a run especially.” I didn’t understand why Luke was screening me, why I awoke from euphoria to a cold empty bed; the hand stroking my cheek in the night wanted only one thing, and didn’t want it from me again though Luke and I had been friends before. There was no text message, no note, and I wondered if I would see Luke again. No doubt, he’d try to avoid my favourite hangouts from now on, he knew most of them. But I didn’t get why I felt so exposed that morning getting dressed. We’d been naked all night but when I woke up and Luke saw me; I felt judged. Judged by the bite marks, the bruising, my careful movements. Luke gazed at me grinning, when I hid behind that Japanese screen to dress after my shower. “It’s no use to hide behind the screen Katie. I can see right through it in the morning light. Come back to bed . . .” So back to Luke I went though sorely overused, and when I fell asleep he was gone and I was alone; Luke’s pillow was cold. I wish I’d screened him better, I wish it was him who was exposed and not me. He hides all his secrets in the dark, he thrives in its opaqueness. The darkness lets him treat women how he does, another notch in a metaphorical bedpost. Walking home, I felt empty, caught in Luke’s darkness, as if I had wasted so much time and conversation, in the end only to be screened, told I wasn’t right for the position. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Fiction, My Thoughts, Quotes, Relationship, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Writing

Writing 101: Fiction – Part 3 – After the Plane Crash #everydayinspiration


Today’s Writing 101 prompt is to write on a Tweet. Here’s the Tweet I chose: Twitter Quote


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Please read part 2 here.

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“I’m fine,” I tell Eric trapped in the shower. “Can I have a little privacy. I was only relaxing, the hot shower feels good on my body. I was dirty and sore.” 

“I can understand that,” Eric said. “I was scared you’d hurt yourself on the way to the bathroom. Aunt Tabitha said you were weak and hadn’t even sat up in bed yet.”

“I’m good,” I say awkwardly still trying to cover my nakedness. I don’t know why I bothered. Eric didn’t seem to care I was naked, only that I hadn’t hurt myself.

“Walking was fine, I managed. I couldn’t leave my hair in the state it was in any longer.” 

Eric chuckled and he opened a tall cupboard in the bathroom removing an oversized plush pale blue towel and a smaller towel as well. He hung them over the glass shower. I was happy the glass wasn’t completely see through due to the steam from the shower.

“Thanks,” I told Eric, grabbing both towels and immediately wrapping myself in the larger one. I arranged my dripping locks into a twist in the smaller towel.

Slowly, I opened up the shower door and slipped out. Eric was staring at me with bright jade green eyes. A half smile curved his lips when he took in my appearance.

“You seem better.The shower helped a great deal.” Eric surmised, ” Aunt Tabitha had an appointment in the city, so she couldn’t be here. Turns out it was a good day for her to be away since you have your strength back . . . Do you think you could tell me your name now?” 

I blushed for some reason, looking down at my feet. I needed a pedicure I thought before peering back at Eric. 

“I’m Ashlyn Howard,” I say shyly. I hold onto my towel with one hand and offer Eric my other hand. 

Amused, he carefully takes my smaller hand in his and shakes it gently. His hand is rough and as our eyes met, I feel a spark, a sensation between us I wasn’t expecting.

“I’m Eric, but you already knew that Ashlyn. We tried many times to find out your name in order to contact your family this week. But you were always so out of it. I couldn’t find your wallet or ID in your back pack.” 

“Yeah, I felt caught between waking up in this room feeling awful seeing your Aunt Tabitha watching me, and then I would dream again about my friend and the crash . ..” I explained. “I should try and get in touch with my family as soon as it’s possible.” 

Eric nodded.”There’s no wifi or internet out here I’m afraid. No cell towers or landline. I have a few satellite phones and that’s about it. We can call your parents after you’ve had a chance to change and rest. Do you have a boyfriend you want to call too, a husband?” 

“Um, no I’m single,” I say blushing. Eric smiles a at me. I feel comfortable around Eric I realize,  as if I weren’t standing outside the bathroom wrapped in towels. 

“I heard about the crash. It was in the news papers. I don’t know how you survived two weeks out in the wilderness. You lost a good bit of weight I think and you fainted on my doorstep from hunger and lack of sleep.” Eric explained.

” I remember. Your PA greeted me and I had nothing in me left. Is it true you manufactur hemp products and sell weed for medical usage?” 

Eric laughed. “Um, mostly that is what I do. I have a license to sell marajauna for medical purposes from the Canadian government. Our weed is top quality. So are the other products we sell made from hemp. A beauty line and some other things.”

 Eric changed the subject.” You need some clothes that fit. I had Aunt Tabitha order you some. She has some daughters about your age so she knew what to buy.” Eric remarked, opening a bleached wooden wardrobe filled with clothes.

“There’s bath stuff and cosmetics in the bathroom as you probably saw.” I gasped, noticing on the price tags of some of the clothes, that they were expensive. Hundreds of dollars and more. I wondered why Eric was being so nice to me.

I glanced at Eric, able to look my fill as he stared out the window for a moment. Eric was hot. Dark brown hair cut in the latest short style, mussed as he ran his hand through it. 

His jade green eyes were beguiling and a he had a wide smile made with sultry lips. His jaw was strong and angular and he seemed to have forgotten to shave today. 

Eric wore dark relaxed jeans, rips in the knees, and a fitted Lecoste golf shirt. Underneath, I knew he was built.

Eric noticed me checking him out and smiled at me. I flushed red and he laughed.”It’s good to meet you Ashyln. I was worried you would die, your fever and sickness were quite bad the doctor told us. It was lucky you found my place when you did.. . Do you need help changing into your clothes? Your wrist is sprained and I know you’re covered in bruises from the shower so . ..”

“You looked!” I accused Eric. He only grinned.

“You left the bathroom door open and the shower was glass. How could I not look?” 

” You could’ve pretended not to.”

“Don’t be embarrassed you’re beautiful. Even if you’re a bit skinny right now,” Eric said laughing. 

He was teasing me, trying to make light of the situation. I blushed at his praise peering up at him and for a moment my dark eyes caught his jade ones and locked in place. 

The air between us sizzled and Eric stepped towards me, brushing a long wet strand of my hair behind my ear. My breathing increased, my body ignited. Heat spread everywhere as Eric cupped my face and ran his thumbs over my cheeks. 

I could smell him, a light woodsy citrus scent and man, together overpowering my senses. His mouth hovered closer, I couldn’t breathe. His breathe was warm on my cheek his lips dropping a small kiss there before gently settling his on my mouth. Warm, explorative kisses, pressed against my lips and made me yearn for more. 

I bit Eric’s bottom lip, soothing it with my tongue and he dived in, claiming my mouth still gentle but with a need behind his kiss now, tangling his tongue with mine; teasing the roof of my mouth before sucking on my tongue. 

I fell against him and his hands smoothed down my body to my arms and back. When his hands brushed and massaged the sensitive skin and muscles around my neck I moaned completely giving into what was coming. Eric made my sore muscles feel so loose.

The smaller towel slipped from my hair as Eric’s fingers sorted through and grasped my long brown tresses. “God, you smell so good,” he rasped before kissing me harder, with more fervour. “It’s the jasmine,” I say between biting kisses.

 Eric’s hand lands on my hand holding in place my large towel. I was ready to let the towel drop. Sparks were creating an inferno inside of me kissing Eric.

It was then, Aunt Tabitha came in through the bedroom door, loudly, slamming it behind her. 

Eric and I sprung apart but it was clear what we’d been up to. Aunt Tabitha smirked. “Eric you’re needed downstairs.”

“What?” 

“There’s a phone call for you on one of the satallite phones. Your PA said you needed to take this one.”

“Now?” Eric stared at me, his jade eyes smouldering and his breathing fast. He shook his head, blinking. He gave me a final look and a small kiss on the cheek, before striding out the bedroom door.

I gazed at Aunt Tabitha, the woman who’d been caring for me and I was sure she could see my face was red. She only laughed at my embarrassment.

“It’s okay. Eric’s a handsome guy and you’re a beautiful women. He doesn’t see many beautiful women around here.” I flushed again, conscience I was still in my towel.

“I should get dressed,” I said, “I’m Ashlyn by the way.” 

“Ashlyn,” it suits you Aunt Tabitha remarked. “You know my name from when you were sick, you called out for me quite often. I’m happy to say you appear healthy. But you are quite thin since we brought you into the house even.”

“I’ll meet you in the kitchen downstairs in forty-five-minutes. The kitchen staff will have some filling food which won’t make you sick because you haven’t been eating much but soup.”

“Thanks Aunt Tabitha. I appreciate it. Eric said I could phone my parents too?” I asked.

“I’ll let Eric help you with that Ashlyn. I’m sure he’ll want to spend more time with you and I don’t want to interrupt. But he is my nephew, so be gentle with him. His past was a rough one.” I nodded smiling at Aunt Tabitha, trying to show I wouldn’t hurt Eric.

“I’m just in the room down the hall.” She said, ” You seem a great deal better having showered and um, having having been busy with my nephew, but don’t overdue it. You were pretty ill their for a week.” 

Aunt Tabitha left my room and I turned towards my new wardrobe, sorting through my it with appreciation. 

A thought came to me as I tried on a bright purple sundress, where was I exactly that there was no wifi, cell phone reception, or landlines? I had a few questions that needed answering.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Fiction, Flash Fiction, May Day Prompts, My Thoughts, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Writing

Maydays: Fiction – Part 2 – After The Plane Crash #Maydays


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Thanks to K.L. Caley of new2writing for hosting #Mayday prompts. Today’s theme is a battle or fight of some kind. Also, Part 2 of a continuing series After The Plane Crash. Read Part 1 here. The battle I’m showing is the main characters fight through her fever and aches from being lost in the wild two weeks.

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Please read Part 1 here.

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“Young lady are you awake.” A woman’s voice whispered to me quietly. “What’s your name?”

I make a noise, not wanting to leave the land of my dreams. It’s safe and peaceful here. Danny is with me and we’re drinking a beer together like old times. I know my friend is not real but I don’t want to admit to myself in my dreams; Danny is dead.

A gentle hand feels my forehead. “She has a high fever. I’m not surprised being out in the wilderness that long. She’s sweating. I think it was an excellent thing the doctor got here so fast and we were able to hook her up to an IV to get some fluid and nutrition into her body.”

 The woman’s voice was soft and sensible. She sounded like the voice of a lady who was a mother. She smoothed back my hair and I sighed in my state of half sleep. I was cold and sweating at the same time. Iceness overcame me and I shivered trying to pull plush blankets around me as I sweated.

“Aunt Tabitha, what can we do? If we keep giving her the IV as the doctor said, and introduce her to some soup and other food in a few days, do you think she’ll be alright?” 

The voice I heard speaking was the deep male voice I had heard before I passed out. The voice had a rich timber, it sounded young and attractive. 

A small smile shaped my lips, then I groaned as cold sweat overcame me. “Poor thing,” Aunt Tabitha said. “I’ll take care of her Eric. Don’t worry, your Auntie took care of you when you were ill as a child and I would do the same for this poor young woman.”

“I appreciate it Aunt Tabitha. I really do. I didn’t know who else to call. The workers wanted nothing to do with her.They thought she had some awful disease the way she appeared to them.”

Tabitha gave a harsh laugh. “Ha, those locals are full of stories and superstitions which have no basis in reality. This woman will be fine. When I clean her up a bit and later when she can wash her hair, I imagine she’s a beautiful girl, Eric. I hope the man who died in that plane crash wasn’t her boyfriend.”

“ I don’t know . . .” Eric said softly. “I’ll leave you too it.” I heard him walk away and a door shutting.

 I was awake but not fully. I faded in and out of feverish dreams, nightmares where I was trapped in a never ending forest. No animals in sight. Nothing edible and carrying no water. Only dead silence filling my ears.

I was dressed in a bra and panties and had nothing else on — not even shoes. Darkness descended and it began to snow and my body was wracked by cold as the wind picked up and the snow built up around me. I couldn’t move. I was so cold I was frozen stiff like an ice sculpture; I shrieked aloud.

——–

Eons pass where I am stuck inbetween what’s real and what’s in my dreams. I dream about my Mom and Dad, how worried they would be about me. I know it’s been past two-weeks now since the plane crash. My feaver hasn’t abated for days but Aunt Tabitha dutifully stays at my side. At night there is a hired nurse. A thin bird-like woman who doesn’t speak English but sees to my needs. 

Aunt Tabitha is with me whenever she can be. I’m aware of her reading on her tablet. Sometimes she reads to me, but I want to tell her she’s only giving my mind more material for nightmares. 

I know she has asked me my name several times but I have trouble finding a voice strong enough to answer her when I feel semi-lucid. Only when nightmares overwhelm me do I scream and plead for them to stop using my voice loudly.

Today my head feels much clearer. I look to see the IV attached to my arm and am thankful it’s giving me nutrients because I think food would repulse me right now. With heavy eyes I scan the room. Strangely, Aunt Tabitha isn’t here. 

I move my head and neck gently, testing my muscles which ache from being in bed too long and from hiking through the woods. I wiggle my toes and stretch my legs. I straighten my arms infront of me and put my arms above my head, stretching my whole body like a cat. I feel a jolt of pain in my side.

Pain throughout my body becomes apparent. Bruises and scrapes mostly. I look at my one wrist and see it’s wrapped in a bandage.I must have sprained it. I’m not sure why I didn’t notice when the sprain occurred.

I feel dirty and have the urge to scrub my body until my skin is pink. A bath would be heavenly. My hair is limp and greasy on my head, I can’t remember ever having hair this scungy. 

I lean up in bed regarding the room around me. It’s a large bedroom and the room,  a work of art and design. The room has a peaceful ambiance, painted in grey-blue.

The furniture including the head board behind me is bleached wood like drift wood from the ocean. I feel relaxed in this place, gazing towards a giant white window with a padded blue window seat full of pillows matching my bed’s dark ink blue duvet and silver and white striped sheets.

I haven’t seen the sun in days. The bright white light of the sun bathes me through the window, but is too bright for my eyes. I shade my face with my hand and gaze in awe at the lush greeness of the mansions front yard. They’re fountains and flowers in the distance.

“Wow,” I say and my voice feels gravelly. I start saying random words and sentences aloud to make my voice sound normal but I can’t seem to rid my voice of its weakness.

 I raise my body into a sitting position, crossing my legs under the bed covers. My body cooperates slowly and with aches, but I manage. 

I have decided to have a bath or showe.  I’m certain I can stand and walk. On careful feet as if I were a toddler, I slip out of the bed and start walking to the bathroom I spied at the end of the room. 

It feels so far away at first but my legs remember how to walk quickly and my steps are more assured as I go. Resting against the door frame, I peer into the bathroom.

There is a large tiled glass shower with a wooden bench inside; I am thankful for the bench.The bathroom is designed well with a heavy marble countertop, twin sinks, and dark blue cabinets underneath the counter. A vanity table near by, holds a few cosmetics, clearly for a woman. The toilet is inside a closet in the corner of the bathroom.

I drop my clothes on the wood floor, carefully removing them as my muscles are still sore. The loose grey sweat pants and large white T-shirt are far too roomy to be my clothing and I leave them on the floor.

 I open up the shower door and hobble over to the bench where I sit turning on the shower nozzle convienantly located near my head. The shower is hot, too hot at first. But the showerhead gives a cleansing rainfall shower. I sigh in pleasure as the water washes over me. Picking up a puff hanging on the wall, I squirt jasmine scented Dior body wash on it. I scrub my body free of natures dirt and fevers sweat. 

My body’s skin is as pink as I imagined, when I reach for Dior face wash and volumizing shampoo. I wash my hair four-times before I’m satisfied it’s clean and I condition it, letting the conditioner soak into my dry long brunette strands before washing it out. The sun has caused some of my brunette strands to bleach blond.

When I’m done washing, I relax and let the hot rainfall water run massaging my muscles which ache. I stay inside the shower longer then necessary but I haven’t felt this well in forever.

 “Are you ever coming out?” a deep voice asks outside the shower chuckling.

I gasp and quickly turn the shower off fumbling. I cover myself with my hands uselessly. Eric is outside the glass shower and I’m naked inside, no towel within reach.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Flash Fiction, Writing

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writer’s – The Place


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There is this place where I go where the clouds are like puffs of cotton disappearing into an orange meringue and radiant yellow sunset. The trees stand tall and dark against the horizon and a meandering path leads to tall lethargic green grass and a shimmering lake reflecting all the colors of the sky.

This is my quiet place, my place of peace when he turns my face purple and black. Then like purple and black my bruises go the color of the sunset and the sky. Being here, and thinking about those colors are the only thing that gets me through the day.

I turn my face blank to get through my job, the job that’s never as good as his. I take my son to soccer practice and cheer him on but I’m never as good as my husband’s Mom was to him. I take care of myself. I wear makeup and fashionable clothes that hide the bruises. But nothing is good enough for my husband.

But tonight I’m queen of my lake kingdom. And I toss the still loaded pistol into the lake and find that finally I can relax.

Word Count: 192 

Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting! Want to participate? Go to:

https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com/author/pricelessjoy/