Flash Fiction, History, My Thoughts, Nature, Relationship, Religion/Morality, Sunday Photo Fiction, Writing, Writing Challenges

Sunday Photo Fiction: For Joy #amwriting #flashfiction


Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF.

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Credit: Sally- An Hodgekiss

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All was as it had been that day, a harsh purple-blackness filled the sky and the towers of the palace appeared to cage him in. Their ruthlessly straight architecture left no room for imagination and no room for failure such as the sins that had made King Salivoir a statue.

A thousand years ago, Jupiter had been furious with King Salivoir. His handsome features scorned the human king who had dared to bed his beloved Venus. Jupiter was so furious with Salivoir his mighty hands crushed the stone of the palace fountain. Salivoir had ended up in the water begging for his life. 

Then, Jupiter had said something shocking, “King Salivoir, I forgive you your transgressions with Venus.”

Salivoir gasped and Jupiter smiled in arrogance turning wretched King Salivoir into solid marble — yet Salivoir still lived within his frozen form. For ages he was there, his marble body cowering in fear. 

Then today a storm just as the one that occurred a millennia ago came and instead of the mighty Jupiter, Venus strode from the violent sky. The clouds turned a brilliant shade of sunset orange. Salivoir was freed and Venus in her benevolence granted him a new life in a new time; Salivoir wept for joy. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, Flash Fiction, Music and Performers, My Thoughts, Writing, Writing Challenges

Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner: Stuck In A Moment


Thanks to Roger Shipp for hosting FFftPP.


giant-ffftpp
Credit: Roger Shipp

Diana was listening to U2 when she spotted the statue. He was carved out of black marble,  his athletic form highly emphasized.

“Stuck In a Moment” played on her phone and she chuckled to herself thinking this statue was indeed “stuck in a moment” and he would never be able to “get out of it.”

Circling him, Diana examined the statues form from all angles. She touched him, loving how smooth his marble skin felt. She was surprised when her touch sparked a light.

The light traveled through the veins and muscles of the statue from his feet up to his neck, flickering into the features of his face. Suddenly, what stood before Diana was an attractive man.

He grinned at Diana, unaware of his own nakedness. Smiling he clasped Diana’s hand before kissing her soundly. Then, he walked off into the crowded street, drawing unheard of female attention.

Diana continued her own way back to work unsure if what she experienced was real. She couldn’t help but think, the man who had been a statue, gave her the best kiss she’d had in forever.


“Stuck In A Moment” – U2


©Mandibelle16. (20170 All Rights Reserved.

Fiction, My Thoughts, OctPoWriMo, Poetry, Relationship, Tetracrys - 1,2,3,4,10,10, 4,3,2,1,1,2,3,4,10, Writing, Writing Challenges

#OctPoWriMo – Day 20 – Tetracyts – “Forgive” #amwriting #poetry


Day 20 Prompt: White“White has so many connotations, white flag, white hat – hero in the old west movies, white – purity, white – clean, white light, white clouds, and the list could go on. What is the first thing that comes to mind when you think of white? Start from there and write for ten minutes.”

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Reclining Woman 20th Century Credit: Aspire Auctions

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White, 

As Blank, 

As the stare, 

On your pale face, 

Wished to tell you the truth but it wasn’t —

Enough; you appeared sickly, tears rolled down. 

—–

Anger, pain unrolled, 

Exposed your soft, 

Lovely, 

Skin. 

I’m, 

Not the, 

Best person, 

But I love you, 

Does that count for anything or are my —

Sins to severe?  Your eyes blink and I hope. 

Catatonia, 

Black eyes so, 

Empty, 

Scared.

Ice, 

Marble, 

Narnian.

Carved face stoic. 

Was trying to heal us, bring the truth to light. 

Your eyes begin sparkling, what was cold, now’s —
—-

Beauty alive, 

Life spinning, 

Grace gifts, 

Warmth. 

Joy, 

Hair flies, 

Hands emote and —

Your glad laugh rings. 

Distracting beauty forgives; peace of mind. 

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Tetracrys

“Tetracrys [is] a poetic form invented by Ray Stebbing. [It] consists of at least 5 lines of 1, 2, 3, 4, 10 syllables (total of 20). Tetractys can be written with more than one verse, but must follow suit with an inverted syllable count. Tetractys can also bereversed and written 10, 4, 3, 2, 1. 

Double Tetractys: 1, 2, 3, 4, 10, 10, 4, 3, 2, 1
Triple Tetractys: 1, 2, 3, 4, 10, 10, 4, 3, 2, 1, 1, 2, 3, 4, 10.” 

Please see Shadow Poetry for more information.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 


Couplets - rhyme and have same meter, Fiction, Flash Fiction, My Thoughts, Poetry, Religion/Morality, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Writing

Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: Disarmed 


Thank you to Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW.

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Phylor

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Who do you think you are, disarming my arms? 

I’m a memory; tween girl wronged, such harm.

Life wasn’t kind to a child, such as I, 

“Girl be quiet;” he hit me, my soul flies.

Woman, my mother, your fault it is not, 

You didn’t know his secrets; but I fought.

My own fault lay, his anger inciting, 

Daddies drunken rage; I went out with spite.

Ironically, you see; I shoved hard with both–

My arms, strong enough to make him me loath.

Hands claw at his throat; blind him in one eye, 

He’s in prison; and I with angels sigh.

Each day I see you cry with regret Mama, 

Your every breathe, sobbing from what you saw.

Words apologizing for not being there, 

How could you know? Woven in your despair.

Carved statue; youthful glow, eternal girl child, 

My soul hovering; watch statue defiled.

Did the marble break? No quality of stone?

Smooth form, my likeness made; please understand —

My soul’s not here kept; I’m where clouds form rain,

My life’s c’est fini; God will heal your pain.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Fiction, Flash Fiction, Free Verse, My Thoughts, Poetry, Religion/Morality, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Writing

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers: Poem – Free Verse – “Weight of a Little World”


I hold a small world on my classic physique, with my fortitude.

Holding up this bridge and pathway, doesn’t matter my attitude,

For it’s one of being cursed in marble, and accepting my sorrowful lot,

Having made the mistakes I’ve made, the gods left me to rot.

Pondering the beach, as Atlas pondered and beheld the heaven’s light rays, 

I bend my head, and think of the day, and to gods beyond Zeus I pray, 

Release me from my prison, veins of liquid blood congealed.

My stone figure, muscled, and taught; made to endure forever, concealed.

Bracing myself on stone, solid rock, muscles strained, no thought, and no slipping, 

Not even able to see my own face cringing, the expression rain is chipping,

My own little world on my back, I hold my personal pain; I hold your fate.

For mine’s an eternity braced as I am, scanning earths children; nothing to do but wait.

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Word Count: 154 words

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momtheobscure

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Thank you to Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAP.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Short Stories And Serial Stories, Writing

Literary Lion: Snow Queen


A marble carving, white, and cold, her skin is soft like falling snow. Yet a strength lives beneath the softness, that ice-cold heart, formed below her skin. Her face is glass, obsidian stone. Perfection in her features frozen in time, her mouth in awe; that anyone could freeze the heat out of her bones. She sits a statue, staring in a mirror, and her lips are blue from being frozen. A tear of salt slides down her stone cheek, she has no flush; she is white as snow. Her hand is permenantly posed at her neck as if she is nervous from sins supposed. The Queen of niege, she has an old name, none that we can pronounce, it existed before language. 

Her eyes a cold dark ice blue and they always reflect her form in the mirror. She’s tired quickly of looking at herself, but she cannot move any part of her body. It’s been that way for millennias. The ice queen posed upon her throne of icicles and hard packed snow. She is regal, magestic, but she has no heart it is frozen solid and that’s what evil does. It twists what is right and turns it ice cold. So now she is stiff as a carved statue. A marblesque figure that cannot lift a finger;she stares out at worlds, at her picture mirror. 

She sees all the love people experience and everything wonderful, fantastic, marvellous, and full of feeling. But she cannot understand what she hates. If it was up to her, humanity would have been what she was; a marble statue. But she is stuck in her crystal palace, locked beneath ice, guarded by a mountain that locks her palace in place. No one will find her, she’s had her time. The Snow Queen has been defeated and is solid ice forever. She sits and hates and cares for nothing, reaching for a freedom that will never be. Ice burdened upon her, a beautiful, unloveable figure who once held Narnia. 

Thanks to  I Smith Words for the prompt ice.