Fiction: “Nomadic Heart” #amwritingfiction


Credit: Adrian Dascal via Unsplash


Linnea ambles with grace down the cobbled streets, backpack slung. The afternoon sunlight reflects in wedges off sculptured buildings, and pedestrians on motorized ‘wheelies’ whiz past her.

She’s chosen ‘berry pink’ hair for today, hidden beneath her helmet. The remote bracelet on her hand flickers amber, and images of the city (places Linnea frequents) appear in front her; she’s the only one who can see them.

She is anxious to find her next home. The ‘all-seeing eye,’ (the same one on her leather jacket) flashes as she shoves her Stans (converse runners) into her ‘wheelie,’ speeding towards her new apartment in seconds. Inside she hoists the ultra-light vehicle over her shoulder before scanning her hand to enter the eclectic living space.

Linnea runs up the hallway stairs and tosses her leather jacket on the couch; her wheelie rests nearby. Lounging on the couch Linnea flicks through vivid images of flowers on a large screen while eating Thai left overs from the fridge.

She chooses images to tattoo on her skin in one painless scan. Most will fade in a week, but there are three which never disappear. They’re the only piece of home she always has with her.

Her eyes spot her jacket and the ‘all seeing-eye’ warning her; it flickers white and Linnea knows that she can’t remain. The beeps of the real tenant’s handprint scanning quickens her pulse; she needs to find a new hideaway. A silver-haired man steps in through the front door and she throws on her gear; Linnea slips out before he notices. Her Stans are in place on her ‘wheelie’ again as she takes off down the street.

Linnea’s life was a series of hopping from place to place. She swore as the wheelie zoomed faster. They called this the future, but the future resembled the past in too many ways. For some people it didn’t matter, they never had a home, a place ‘just’ theirs. For some people their nomadic heart forever wandered and always would; home was an illusion.


©️Mandibelle16. (2019) All Rights Reserved.

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Saturday Mix: Poem – Synchronicity – “Seventeen at Heart” #amwriting #poetry #SaturdayMix 


Thank you to Teresa from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for holding last week’s Saturday Mix. The prompt topic is to use the number seventeen in someway. 

———

Credit: Eden Hills

——–

When I was seventeen years old, 

A wise man told me to enjoy, 

Be free. 

——-

When I was seventeen I saw, 

Poverty in Mexico such —

Suffering. 

———

A cycle that can’t be undone, 

Without a better government, 

Wages raised. 

——-

Without education for all, 

Who seek to improve their lives torn, 

Hoping. 

——

When I was seventeen I saw, 

Stray dogs wandering without homes, 

Hungry. 

——-

The children starved, the animals, 

Begged for lefover scraps, they’re both, 

Love starved. 

——–

When I was seventeen met, 

Old frenemies and rebonded, 

New times. 

——-

When I was seventeen turned, 

Eighteen in July still felt, 

A child. 

——–

At eighteen, I felt seventeen, 

At twenty two I felt the same, 

Not grown. 

——-

Then I learned it’s your outside that, 

Changes, age is mythology, 

There are —

———

Times in your life where the world, 

Makes you hurt, learn, dissemble, 

Go on. 

——

——-

Hope’s there for all who choose to be, 

Seventeen at heart forever, 

Means strength, 

——–

Means trivialities, meaningless, 

Faith is a laturn, guides footsteps, 

In dark. 

———

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Tale Weaver: Poem – Octain Refrain – “Charity Heals” #amwriting #poetry #charlesdickinson #christmas #taleweavers


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s Tale Weaver theme, a “Dickinsian Christmas.” 

——

Credit: MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie

——

“Suffering has been stronger than all other teaching, and has taught me to understand what your heart used to be. I have been bent and broken, but – I hope – into a better shape.” 

― Charles Dickens, Great Expectations

——

A heart that’s been broken, needs charity to heal, 

Life we’ve been taught, is malicious and cruel, 

We suffer and it’s under mankind’s harsh rule. 

Capitalism, more money, less feeling. 

Factories still, workers paid little or none. 

Have we past Dickinson’s time? Progress runs, 

Children suffer, no home or love that’s real. 

We’re not past an era of being fools. 

A heart that’s been broken, needs charity to heal. 

—-

A heart that’s been broken, needs charity to heal. 

We need homes, our family’s love this Yule. 

We need to remember those broken cruel, 

By the hand life dealt them, by their hurts stung. 

We need to let them be with us here, among; 

To acknowledge the poor, the weak, and feel —

Their pain, let them know Christ’s here, life’s renewal. 

A heart that’s been broken, needs charity to heal. 

——

A heart that’s been broken, needs charity to heal. 

Vital to understand, life has no rules, 

It’s the reason there’s pain, badness accruals

But seek to do better, show the world meaning, 

Demonstrate, don’t forget others —

Those close and those far, all are our brothers, 

Our sisters on earth; so this Yule reveals, 

Though life’s experiences have us all schooled, 

A heart that’s been broken, needs charity to heal. 

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Tale Weaver: Poem – Octain Refrain – “Charity Heals” #amwriting #poetry #charlesdickinson #christmas #taleweavers


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s Tale Weaver theme, a “Dickinsian Christmas.” 

——

Credit: MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie

——

“Suffering has been stronger than all other teaching, and has taught me to understand what your heart used to be. I have been bent and broken, but – I hope – into a better shape.” 

― Charles Dickens, Great Expectations

——

A heart that’s been broken, needs charity to heal, 

Life we’ve been taught, is malicious and cruel, 

We suffer and it’s under mankind’s harsh rule. 

Capitalism, more money, less feeling. 

Factories still, workers paid little or none. 

Have we past Dickinson’s time? Progress runs, 

Children suffer, no home or love that’s real. 

We’re not past an era of being fools. 

A heart that’s been broken, needs charity to heal. 

—-

A heart that’s been broken, needs charity to heal. 

We need homes, our family’s love this Yule. 

We need to remember those broken cruel, 

By the hand life dealt them, by their hurts stung. 

We need to let them be with us here, among; 

To acknowledge the poor, the weak, and feel —

Their pain, let them know Christ’s here, life’s renewal. 

A heart that’s been broken, needs charity to heal. 

——

A heart that’s been broken, needs charity to heal. 

Vitally understand, life has no rules, 

It’s the reason there’s pain, badness accruals. 

But seek to do better, show the world healing, 

Demonstrate, don’t forget others. 

Those close and those far, all are our brothers, 

Our sisters on earth; so this Yule reveal, 

Though life’s experiences have us all schooled, 

A heart that’s been broken, needs charity to heal. 

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.