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

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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.  

Saturday Mix: Poem – Blank Verse – “Addiction Nightmares” #amwriting #poetry #saturdaymix 


Thanks to Teresa of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting last week’s Saturday Mix Prompt. The prompt is to write a Homeric or Epic Simile. 

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Credit: Angel Jimenez via UnSplash

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He lived his life did, what he could, but could —

Not find a way to escape the demons. 

He could not escape his addiction; the —

Monster sunk his teeth into him when his, 

Guard was down; he would feel wonderful, 

Healthy, good, then he felt it’s teeth gnawing. 

The biting, the teeth claiming his flesh, would make, 

His skin itch until he wanted to tear it, 

Off; running for the bathroom where he hid, 

His medication, the pills he so craved. 

Wanted to quit; to never take again, 

But the monster clawing down his back would, 

Never stop; not until he claimed him for–

His own; made him demon too, who hits her, 

His girl; who loves him, though hallucinates, 

Of the Hell monster,  he lives in terror of, 

He wakes from Hell to find his family, 

Has deserted him; he’s alone breathing; 

Trying to forget the demon who would start, 

Eating him alive soon, making his temper —

Rise and his fists fly as he imbibes too, 

Craving the second monster who is the, 

Only way to handle the greater, 

The worst monster, the devil hiding. 

Evil itself repeatedly gnawing, 

Trapping him in Hades, stripping his —

Soul; so he feels that he does not exist;

For anyone, but to grind and lash out. 

To battle the demon, his addiction, 

And no one can help him, they’ve given 

Up all hope; so one day he thought he would, 

Give in let the monster finish him. 

Bind and seal the deal, his soul in hell for, 

All eternity and he was going, 

To jump when he saw —  a light, awoke; 

In the room of the addictions unit. 

At the hospital and the nurse tells him, 

“It’s okay it’s been a month and you’re —

Dreaming again; it’s a wicked —

Nightmare and not your reality now.

Keep clean and the monster, he’ll leave soon, 

Then, you’ll be free as you’re here and —

Remain aware; when you leave stay far from, 

Put those drugs, the alcohol behind. 

And soon you must embrace your new life, 

Make your apologies and live.” 

The man sighs almost crying, so —

Happy the demons are distant dreams. 

———

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Tale Weavers: Poem – The Blitz – “The Maiden and The Dragon” #amwriting #taleweavers #poetry


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s Tale Weaver’s prompt about a quest, such as the ones JRR Tolkien writes about in his famous books. 

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Credit: MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie

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Dragons are here, I know it

Dragons beware, my sword is sharp

Sharp as the knives hid on my body

Sharp as the tongue of my wife

Wife said, “Do not go” 

Wife begged, yet I went 

Went through the haunted forest dark 

Went through the storms, muck, and mire

Mire as quicksand, sucked in my body

Mire that almost swallowed my life

Life burnt a flaming hole so wide

Life’s flame would not flicker out

Out of the muck and mire pulled

Out of certain death to rescue a princess

Locked in a tower for my Lord, my King 

Locked in a tower and languishing

Languished she did for centuries

Languished as a spell had been cast

Cast, so she would always sleep

Cast, because evil always hates

Hates beauty and goodness

Hates who this princess is said to be 

Be afraid though, I warn you, friend 

Be vigilant in your task to save 

Saving the princess isn’t the challenge

Saving her, I wondered, where is the dragon? 

Dragon she rose from the depths of beauty 

Dragon was the the princess herself 

Herself screaming, “I am the dragon”

Herself shouting, “I will eat you whole” 

Wholly she transformed in that fiery beast

Wholly she was a scaled, sulphereous demon

Demon who cried, “I am no damsal in distress”

Demon who seethed, “I protect me” 

Me, I gazed upon the languishing beauty 

Me, my eyes met the dragons yellow-eyed stare

Stared into my soul, saw I was a ruin 

Stared into my heart, saw I was wretched

Wretched cursed princess, the dragon? 

Wretched as the princess waiting 

Waiting and no one came so she grew tired

Waiting as she wrecks her vengeance 

Vengeance because no hero is true 

Vengeance, she can depend only on herself, no heroes 

Hereo, the archetypal kind who abuse poor maidens

Heroe, is there such a man who ever existed? 

Existed a hero she once did love 

Existed her hero but he never came — she remains cursed 

Cursed though she be, I could not destroy the beast

Cursed, she knows not why she is punished, cursed. 

Beast but still a girl, so I left, ashamed I could not save her. 

Cursed, she lingers on my mind, the maiden, the dragon as one

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: An Alternate Universe of the Wizard of Oz.


Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW.

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Storyteller’s Abode

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Dorothy had a wonderful time with the munchkins in their village. She had been celebrated as the killer of the Wicked Witch of the East. The Good Witch Gelinda sent Dorothy down the yellow brick road with the deceased witch’s ruby red slippers adorning Dorothy’s feet. 

The shoes were heels and uncomfortable. Dorothy soon regretted she could not take them off. She was leaning against a fence, resting her feet, when she thought the scarecrow beside her talked.

“What?” Dorothy asked the scarecrow, “Did you say something?”

The scarecrow continued making funny noises which was when Dorothy, a good Catholic, believed the scarecrow was possessed. She decided to burn the scarecrow and the demon out.

Lighting him afire she watched as the scarecrow screeched and fell in the middle of the yellow brick road, blackened hay and cloth all that remained.

Dorothy smiled to herself. Wicked witch of the East, check. Possessed scarecrow, check. Wizard of Oz here I come!

——

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved

Writing 101: Poem – Etherees – “The Mark” #everydayinspiration


Today’s prompt is to use a quote to begin our writing.

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The battle of life is, in most cases, fought uphill; and to win it without a struggle were perhaps to win it without honor. If there were no difficulties there would be no success; if there were nothing to struggle for, there would be nothing to be achieved.  – Samual Smiles

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Such goals we have to not miss the giant mark, 

To accomplish though we faulter and–

Find ourselves falling of the mark short.

My gaze has set upon the hill,

My determination —

Evident and, 

Perspiration,

Relevant.

Crying, 

March.

—-

I,

Will not —

Let failure,

Tarnish my–

Intent to triumph,

Strength, running through my bones,

Sweat upon my brow and I, 

Reach for that set goal growing still,

Never going to give, can’t alleviate —

The pain I meet, my struggle with heart.

—–

There is no distance I won’t go, no path–

My sword won’t clear the way, lashing through,

Knowing my own virtue isn’t,

Worth a mercenary,

Heart of one who cannot,

Taste the wine which is,

His life’s blood met, 

Breaking bread and,

Fighting on,

Life is, 

Tough.

—-

Goal, 

In my, 

Grasp I, 

Keep winning,

There is no place to —

Wander of path I’m kept, 

Focused on the prize before —

I am confused by life’s debris,

Keep up the challenge, the struggle,

Never fear, blessed angels fight with you to end.

—–

No weakness in my lungs, battle cries are —

Rung; an invading army charges through,

Not pierced by arrows or swords of,

Finest sharpest metals mixed,

Alloys fit to strike wrath,

Life is a fight won, 

It’s hard to breathe.

Even stabbed we,

Triumph.

At last, 

Rest.

——

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rughts Reserved.

Poem: Nonet- ” I was her, once”


Thanks to The Daily Prompt for the word prompt envy.

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Sophie Loren envies Jayne Mansfield
Sophie Loren Envies Jayne Mansfield (www.curitibainenglish.com)

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Insidious sin from within me,

Walking beside, head turned to her,

What about me, blank space beside,

Unnoticeable me,

Been with you a while,

You stopped seeing,

Invisible,

little

me.

——

When I catch you in the backroom,

Looking at her full of desire,

Kissing her face with love,

Green demon inside flails,

Screeching, betrayal,

Not understanding,

Envious,

I was her,

So loved,

Once.

—-

©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.

 

 

 

Flash fiction for Aspiring Writers: “Demonic Beauty”


Enclosed in the bar, eyes magnify; temptress in red, silk sliding on skin.

Sway in her hips, a tease of the senses. Men breathless consent, adoring sin.

Striding with ease, heels ruby with diamonds. Naked shoulders shimmer, anticipating.

Treading softly, fallen in red fire, elusive, and beguiling; illusion of flames sating.

Moving her hips, licking cherry red lips; coal glimmer in demonic eyes.

Sensations burning, engulfs her body; seething, writhing, building her disguise,

A vestige of power; she’s the tyger enticing, an allusion to Eden, of poisonus lies.

Decisive, sauntering closer, flicking hair, tar-black as the ash before Lent.

Peer into eyes, a glimmer of gold, metal men grieve for; silence, fire scent.

A vision, a curse, a whisper in vain — animating, the instrument on stage, 

Notes dance, music bleeding; breathing sweat, the melody of the enraged,

Fire rings, smoke engulfing; watch the woman despair, her voice entrances, beware–

Beauty enraged, a witch, incaged; performing she’s the beast, on stage no cares.

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http://www.pixebay.com
 

Thanks to Priceless Joy our wonderful host of FFfAW.

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©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.

Poem: Septolet – “Dragon’s Fire.”


The Septolet is a poem consisting of seven lines containing fourteen words with a break in between the two parts. Both parts deal with the same thought and create a picture.

Please see Shadow Poetry for more information on this form.

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http://www.pinterest.com
 
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Engaging demon,

Caught dreaming, 

Roars.

——

Rapid movement,

Teeth snapping, 

Crash.

—–

Couldn’t perceive,

Dragon’s burning,

Embers.

—–
Comatose seeming,

Monster gleaming 

Terror.

—-

©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.

Writing 101: Camaflouge – “Demon Within.”


If you look closely and try, 

You may see things that are alive. 

That hide behind the veil lifted;

Reveals a soul oh so dark , 

Utterly twisted at heart.

You may see things huge and torn,

A memory of childhood born,

And blood seeping through the core,

 And not a place you want to live.

What unstable being lerks within,

When we see passed our own sin,

Seek forgiveness and find that,

A monster still lerks there in.

He hides with growls and much power;

He is the epic Grendle to slay,

Did Beowulf forget to prey,

A seething demon hiding,

Would never arise again and–

We can’t hide behind our horror.

We can’t decide we’re afflicted,

And let the demon in his —

Golden palace glitter sleep.

We must fight the monster hid,

Deep beneath our normal-self.

The part that no one can see,

The soul in a dark prison,

A prison of ebony.

What capricious darling,

Needs to be torn to pieces.

The light envades the darkest–

Places in our hearts and minds,

My soul wakes up to find that God,

Designed us a Camaflouge,

We should never hide from He

Who is every space and those —

 Hidden inbetween sight.

We are able to find within what–

Has hid and free ourselves from —

A captivity and find–

A dream of peacefulness,

Divine providence, focus.

Don’t let the darkness win the

War for your soul and fight it–

You are hidden away and–

Safe, once condemned but alive,

With the coming of the light,

Remove the shackles and clothes,

That hid the human within the 

Walls of oppression and sin;

Of Camaflouge you have —

No need, go now, be at peace. 

—–

©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.