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. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

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Photo Challenge:  Fiction – That Could Still Be Us #amwriting #fiction #relationship 


Thanks to NEEKNERAJ for hosting MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie Photo Challenge this week. 

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Credit: NEEKNERAJ

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Twilight fades and darkness overtakes the sun. It’s difficult to see at night in the winter when there isn’t much snow. Those glistening piles such as frozen clouds, usually manage to catch the moon’s radiant glow. But tonight the only light outside is a crescent moon and far above, the glimmering stars. 

The lights on the dashboard flicker on and I gaze at you behind the wheel, humming softly to yourself as you continue our drive in an ink dark night. I can see from your face you’re exhausted.

“Please let me drive for you? At least a couple of hours so you can sleep, Tye?” 

You roll your eyes at me in the relative darkness in the inside of our car, “You don’t drive well enough. You only drive to the grocery store and a short distance to work. You don’t have experience driving on icy highways at night, Cara” Tye looks at me waiting for me to respond. 

Finally I peep, “When I took my drivers lessons, we drove on icy snowy highways. I drive all around the city,” I inform him. “Highways aren’t my favorite but you’re falling asleep at the wheel and I can handle driving until we reach Red Deer. The roads are deserted and I’m going to be driving straight and making sure I stay a good distance behind any other vehicle I come across.” 

Tye nods and bites his lip. I can tell he has no energy to argue with me. “I do need the sleep badly. When we get to Red Deer let’s stop and stay at a hotel for the night, okay Cara?” I smile at Tye in agreement and watch him pull the car over to the side of the highway to trade seats wih me.

I start to drive and at first I can see he’s a bit frightened for me and frankly so am I. But eventually Tye realizes I can keep up the speed on the highway and that I’m driving well, keeping my eyes on the road. 

At one moment I feel the car wiggle and slide over an ice patch but I pump the breaks and I drive the car without incident again. I wonder if he noticed my dangerous slip, but peering to my side I see Tye is sound asleep.

My poor guy, I think running my one hand through his hair as we reach Red Deer. I park the car near a decent hotel. The Best Western appears newer and well taken care of. Tye rubs his eyes when I gently shake him awake. 

When we are finally in our room I shower and I’m surprised when he joins me. “So, we’re talking again I guess? You’re not mad at me anymore?” I ask Tye. 

He holds me from behind, curving his body into mine and sighing in my wet hair. He kisses my cheek, “I don’t want to fight with you Cara. I want us to us again. I don’t like that your ex kissed you, but I thought about it the entire time we’ve been driving home from the mountains. You didn’t initiate the kiss and your friends said the same thing. My buddies agreed with them too. The whole situation made me so angry, I can’t even explain it.”

I nod and rest my head back on Tye’s bare shoulder, “I would never, you know that? But I can’t explain things to you if you won’t communicate with me. We could’ve solved this back in the mountains and skipped the tense ride home. I didn’t mean to make you jealous. I punched my ex for hitting on me after you went back to the hotel still foaming at the mouth,” I say with a proud smirk. 

Tye strokes my cheek and kisses my lips, “Punched him, hey? I’m so happy to hear you did. I wanted to more than punch him before I cooled down. It’s all forgotten, Cara. But I think we could both use some extra distractions just in case.” 

I giggle and turn around so I’m flush against Tye, “Okay, let’s completely wipe our minds clear of the past couple of days.” 

The night became one of our most memorable nights together. 

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“That Could Still Be Us” – Keith Urban 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.   

Sunday Photo Fiction: Not To Touch #amwriting #flashfiction #fiction


Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF. 

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A Mixed Bag

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I’m reminded of a science experiment my class did in grade five. We used chalk to grow crystals on them. The exact process I don’t remember, but I do recall feeling proud upon removing a piece of chalk from my container and finding various coloured crystals on it. 

I thought back to this day when I saw the trees begin to glitter with crystals. It had been extremely cold and blizzardy, so we all assumed it was naturally, the accumulation of ice crystals. But then the trees became covered in crystals of all colours.

 There were bright lavender crystals and cyan blue crystals. There were even bubble gum pink crystals. Everyone thought this was the most beautiful and unique oddity. Journalists came from every city across the country, to report on this rarity for themselves. 

Then, scientists in the area starting testing the crystals and while they were lovely on the trees, the were not so lovely attached to your skin. They crystals once fastened, would not unfasten from one’s skin until a person was completely covered in them. Until their body was frozen, stiff, and dead as the trees which never budded in spring. 

Our town was nearly deserted by the time the military took over. The colourful forest was burned to the ground. 

The most heart breaking aspect for everyone was that the small children were the first to touch the trees. They had the smallest bodies and didn’t last long. I think it’s the reason so many people started over, the unbearable misery they left behind. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers  – The Opera House


Maggie was to attend her favourite singer in concert at the opera house. The old theatre was a bit of a frightening place.  The chairs were red, an aged patina, with stuffing falling out. Sound amplified in a strange way in the old opera house, and one could hear the whispers of voices, of bygone  performers whenever the crowd went quiet waiting for the modern day songstress to belt out her next song. At the end of the concert, the theatre emptied rapidly until Maggie found herself alone, drawn to the deserted stage. Maggie traced the edge of the stage and when she looked up the opera house had altered. 

Maggie opened her eyes to see the ancient theatre in all it’s splendid glory of luxurious newness. She was wearing a flapper dress and headband and the seats were filled with woman and men dressed in their best from the same 1920’s era. Maggie approached the stage, they were all clapping for her, the newest soul to be claimed by the haunted world of the old opera house. Doomed to spend eternity reliving the concerts that had taken place in this once opulent place. 

The police found her lying dead on the stage the next morning.

  
Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting! 

Flash Fiction For Aspiring Writers Part 3: A Whisp  in The Wind.


Jackie never saw Bernice again after her terrifying revelation to Jackie at the gazebo. She cut her dark mane short and put large blonde highlights in her hair. Davey could be anywhere. She stopped dressing fashionably and moved her entire belongings to a condo in a neighbourhood not far from a sandy beach called Quiet Harbor Beach.

Walking along the surf one afternoon she saw a group of boys in dark khaki uniforms. They asked her to take a picture of them and Jackie obliged. The boys hugged her and kissed her on the cheek, a proper thank you in their culture and left Jackie to wander.

Suddenly the hairs on Jackie’s neck began to prickle. She started running and knew it was too late for her to get anywhere when Davey tackled Jackie to the ground. ” Go away, and get off me Davey,” Jackie said. She began to kick and flail her limp body but Davey growled and told her to stop fighting him. ” I have a restraining order on you,” Jackie said angrily. 

Davey shrugged on top of of her and laughed. ” I don’t want to hurt you Jackie but I will if you don’t cooperate” Davey whispered in her ear. There was no one around to Jackie’s distress and Davey pulled her to her feet and brushed the sand off her. ” I just want you back, we maybe divorced but half of the money your grandfather left you is mine. Rich old bastard.” And half the money Bernice left you too is mine. Just because we’re divorced doesn’t mean that you can hoard that kind of cash” He stroked Jackie’s hair and cheek and Jackie almost threw up. 

” Yes, we’re going to be a happy family, in time you will learn to love me again.”

” You killed my sister” you asshole, screamed Jackie.

” I did and I don’t know how you know but it’s our little secret Jackie. The same could happen to you” murmured Davey and he stroked a circle around her throat. Jackie began to cry but Davey picked her up none too gently and shoved her in his Jaguar. He buckled her up, locked the doors and drove Jackie away to God knows where.

  
Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting. If you want to participate visit some of my past flash fiction stories for her page address.