Sunday Photo Fiction: A Place to Fall #amwriting #fiction #SPFo


Thanks to Susan Spaulding for hosting SPF.


Credit: Susan Spaulding


The catacomb walls were thick and confining. Iris let out a lungful of pent up breath as sunlight filtered through a doorway. The tunnels with so many bones of the same type stacked on other bones, frightened her.

She wondered why in such an ancient country, human remains were not given the respect of a grave for more than a year or two — or at least cremation.

Iris wheezed as Don, rubbed her back. “You having an attack?”

“No.”

He rolled his eyes. “You say that every time we visit tight spaces. You’re claustrophobic.”

“I’m fine. Don’t worry.” Iris was close to the exit, but the air she breathed was too stale; there wasn’t enough fresh air in the Catacombs. Her body collapsed and she couldn’t control the darkness that overcame her.

Then, Don was lifting her. Her eyes opened as he carried her into blinding daylight. A tiny ‘V’ furrowed between his gray ones.

He stroked her hair. “I got you.”

“Always?” Her voice was faint.

“Always. I know you better than you think.”

She inhaled cool air and let Don cradle her weight.


©Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

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#OctPoWriMo Day 23/TaleWeavers: Poem – Free Verse – “Curses and Betrayels” #amwriting #poetry #taleweavers 


For OctPoWriMo Day 23 the Prompt is on the Greek Mythology tale of Iris the Godess or Rainbows and Arke her twin sister and what is the message of their tale.  I’m combining this with the Tale Weavers prompt making sense of nonsense, using the nonsensical word cloppsright from Michael of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie

Credit: Mahkeo via Unsplash

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Cloppsright, a definition,

A stereo type;

What they swear. 

Not the lively, 

Iris’s fresh brilliance,

Providing hope, 

After the storm. 

I’m but a shape, 

The form an arch;

One fallen, 

A woman of sin. 

Cloppsright, the curse. 

Most use the ‘F’ word these days,

But it used to describe,

Their thoughts,

On a goddesses betrayal.

Chapped lips snarling, learing, 

At my black corsettes, ruby red gowns, 

Too showy, such a whore

A little cloppsright

Nothing compared to her radiance, 

Iris the light. 

The brightness of painting pigments. 

A sky of azure vivacity,

She’s utter joy. 

I’m the darkness, 

That seeps inbetween good, 

Twisting its form. 

The feeling in a room,

Causing you to shiver,

Your hair to rise on end, 

When the house is quiet,

When floorboards creak, 

My thoughts of loathing, 

Of disgust, wreck the night. 

For I am the tempestuous storm,

And she is the finale, 

The glory of a promise made and kept. 

Betrayal is a poison, 

And she is but an Iris

A beaming delight, a flower. 

But I’m more than an Arke

Shaping lights reflection. 

Let her compose and carry, 

Her own color. 

I’ve torn myself from the sky, 

The darker twin.

The seductive cloppsright so fallen, 

Nature’s disgrace;

Yet still there is power, 

In the silence,

Of grim nights, 

Before your fears become real;

My messages bring death

Swear and say cloppsright,

Curse me in your native tongue.

For Iris she withers and Arke rises,

Up into the angry heavens. 

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Tale Weavers: Crossing the Veil #amwriting #taleweavers #fiction


Thanks to Michael from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s prompt: A tale which takes place beyond the veiled mist. 

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Credit: Adventures In The Wild

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Kyria had been warned since she was a small child, beyond the veil was dangerous. Her older siblings had told her monsters lived there, that there were witches waiting to eat a young child. 

What the adults said wasn’t much better. Her Grandma Iris said she’d lose her soul if she was caught in the veil beyond. She talked about shape shifters and immortal creatures of the dark such as vampires and werewolves.

One day hanging the laundry on the line at her grandmothers, Kyria gazed at the veil nearby. She hadn’t thought of it for a long time and she wasn’t sure why it called to her now. She’d never admit she could hear the whispers of the creatures which lived their. They were tempting her and she knew it.

 Did everyone in the village see the veil as she did? Kyria believed they had no idea where it physically was, that to them it was was only folklore for children and not a real thing; it was extremely real to Kyria and she knew for her grandmother as well. 

Kyria was twenty-four and long past the age of adulthood. Her parents lived together and her siblings with their families. She hadn’t found a suitable man to marry so her father decided she should move in with her ailing Grandmother and care for her. He thought she needed to be of use somewhere since she hadn’t married quickly as her sisters did. 

The more Kyria thought about the veil and the mist shrouding it, the more she thought about how she’d never put herself out there in life. She’d always done what she was told and when others failed she was the one who took their place, who filled in so everything went smoothly. 

It was how she made up for her so-called “selfishness,” still being single and not having children for her family and village. She wondered why she had never pushed her boundaries and was tired of being ruled by her father’s and her grandmother’s whims.

Kyria loved her Grandma Iris the most because she understood Kyria better than anyone. But her grandma still cautioned her to never cross the veil daily. But grandma was inside sleeping and Kyria heard the whispers from veil more and more these days. They were a sirens call to her. 

She ignored all she had been told by her grandma, her family, and her friends as a child. She decided today she would cross the shrouded veil into the other world. Dropping the laundry Kyria walked towards the veil and into the mist surrounding it. The veil shimmered as she came closer and sonorous voice could be heard singing on the other side. 

When she reached the line where the spiritual and natural worlds met Kyria stopped for a moment and stood. She smiled and with both hands raised in front of her she was able to feel the mystical energy she was about to pass through. 

She stepped into the shimmering fog and breathed deeply. Her long blond hair flew out behind her and it was the last thing her grandmother saw as she watched her granddaughter cross into the other world. 

Grandma Iris sighed in frustration but she knew as it had been with her, the veil had been too much of a temptation for Kyria. She knew that adventure and discovery awaited her sheltered granddaughter. As it had been with Iris, the veil and it’s magic was in Kyria’s blood. Grandma Iris was the only one besides Kyria who actually could see the veil, she had made herself guardian of the gateway and hoped Kyria would take over for her one day. 

But as the last of Kyria’s blond hair slipped through veil and disappeared, Iris couldn’t help being thrilled for her granddaughter. What awaited Kyria would shape and change her. It would motivate and hurt her, it would be an experience far beyond the scope anyone in the village would ever experience. 

Iris blew a kiss towards the veil and whispered a blessing for Kyria. The feelings of excitement in Iris were so intense it was as if it were fifty-years-ago and she herself was crossing the veil. 

——

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers: Through a Skeleton’s Eyes. 


Surprise! I’m the skeleton in the classroom where you have Anatomy. An interesting aspect: the top half of my skull isn’t mine, it’s fake. 

Once I was a pretty girl of nineteen named Iris. I ran up to the dorm to watch movies with a bunch of the guys from the hockey team. My guy was the goalie. Travis made everyone laugh. But I stopped laughing when I went to see him in his dorm room when he was sick.

I opened his door and there was this fake and bake cheerleader on top of Travis moaning. I shrieked and I dragged the naked cheerleader by her hair to the door.

Suddenly, the cheerleader became free and hit me hard on my head with Travis’ favourite hockey stick. I could hear my head crack, distantly. The cheerleader hit me again viciously. I remember Travis crying but doing nothing to stop her.

So, Yes. This was my skeleton, but I’m not tied to it. Only, my spirit  hangs about here. I’m stuck on campus where they covered up my murder. The cheerleader slut and Travis went free. They didn’t live long. 

 

http://www.pixebay.com
 
Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting. Feel free to participate by checking out the above link.

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©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.