Saturday Mix/ Photo Challenge: Fiction – Dear Moose #amwriting #fiction #SaturdayMix #PhotoChallenge


Thanks to Sarah of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie’s Double Take. Also, combining with NEKNEERAJ of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie’s Photo Challenge. Sarah’s homophone sets this week are: mail – postal delivery and male – masculine person. Also, moose – a large elk and mousse – dessert of whipped cream and eggs.


Credit: Brooke Shaden


It began with a letter. The clunk of the mailman’s shoes as he delivered a letter sealed with scarlet. Genevieve snatched the letter from her mailbox. Her hands trembled. The writing of the address seemed masculine. It curved without order or neatness. The fact that a male could handwrite these days surprised her.

“Perhaps he’s an older man?” She shrugged and slit the letter. The name on the envelope wasn’t one Genevieve recognized. She did not believe its sender was ‘actually’ ‘John Smith.’ She rolled her eyes.

Genevieve slid three folded cream pages from the envelope and straightened them. The first page had a tiny emblem in the corner. She wasn’t sure what it meant. A ‘J’ with a squiggle looped over and down from the top of the ‘J’ to form a tiny ‘S’ beneath it. The third letter was a ‘T’ that she realized matched the wax seal.

‘John Smith’s’ writing began without greetings. Genevieve read a few sentences and discovered the letter was penned to someone called Moose.

“I’m not Moose, and I don’t know anyone with that nickname.” She struggled to read ‘John’s’ handwriting. After a bit, she set down the first page. Moose was involved in serious business.

She threw her coat and purse on the floor. She’d only returned from work a minute before the envelope arrived. She groaned. “Why C/O Genevieve O’Connor?” But no one answered, as she knew they wouldn’t.

Genevieve pinched the bridge of her nose. “Shower and food. Then, I’ll read more.” She gathered clean clothes and pondered the letter under the shower’s spray. After a half hour, she dressed and heated left-over Ravioli.

She grabbed a cozy blanket from a linen closet and flipped over page one of the letter Genevieve swore under her breath. Damn illegible handwriting. Can’t you print like a normal person?

She padded back to her room to towel dry her hair and to comb through some mousse. Then, she reclined on her sofa, gathering her blanket as she deciphered ‘John’s’ letter. She shivered despite her hot shower, and couldn’t help the feeling that something about this letter was amiss.

*****

That’s how it Genevieve became lost in the forest, and ended up at a summer cottage closed for the fall. Her body trembled and she couldn’t stand the dirt, blood, and other forest offerings on her skin. The only place to wash was a large kitchen sink. There was no shower, so Genevieve stuffed the cabin’s broken window pane with a blanket and stripped.

She couldn’t get rid of the tang of blood or acrid dirt. It made her nauseous. She scrubbed her skin raw, and poured more dish soap on her hair. She stepped out of the sink careful not to slip. As she rinsed her hair, evidence of the past few days whirled down the drain.

She was tired of being alone. She yelled at the absent John Smith. He’d helped her only once before. “You’ve a lot of explaining, John.”His name was a sneer. “I’m tired of this game. I never knew Moose. I don’t know why I’m his contact: let me be, and tell your gun-totting buddies too.”

Her voice echoed in the cottage, and she was alone except for the howling mountain’s winds; its paradoxical breezes made her headache throb. Gentle winds mixed with gusts causing the windows to clammer.

Genevieve scrambled through kitchen drawers until she found the Advil. Swallowing two pills, she fell into bed. The sheets were lavender-scented and the duvet warm. Who lived here? She didn’t know. Then, a hand swept across her forehead, and she mumbled thinking it was a dream.

“John?” Her voice was hoarse, and her hands reached, and gripped a muscled arm in flannel. Genevieve groaned as his fingers combed through her wet hair. His hand rested on her forehead.

“It is you.” The room was dark and only John’s outline was visible. She knew it was him by his scent. Fresh and masculine.

“You’ve a fever.” She rolled her eyes. Genevieve was mad.

“Drink this?” A red mug lowered to her mouth.

“What is it?”

“I’m not here to hurt you, Genevieve.”

“Such a liar.” He insisted she drink it, so she did. In-between sips she grumbled and tried to sit up. He pushed her down.

“It’s Neocitran. You’re sick and you need sleep.”

“I’m sick? Whose fault is that? After everything, now you show up?” Genevieve’s eyes closed as lethargy overcame her.

“Go away, John. I’ll figure this out alone. You complicate everything.”

He sighed. She opened her eyes as he rubbed his hands over watched his face, and through his two-day stubble.

“I didn’t mean to handle it this way. I didn’t know you’d never met your brother.” He combed through her hair once more.

It bothered Genevieve that things seemed less hopeless with John beside her. She wanted him to stay but knew he’d be gone by morning.

“Just leave, John.”

“Not a chance, Genna.” She thought she imagined his last words.


©Mandibelle16.(2018) All Rights Reserved.

Day 10 – NaPoWriMo/A to Z Challenge/ Photo Challenge: Poem – Free Verse -“The Swan” #amwriting #poetry #AtoZchallenge #NaPoWriMo


Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt is to “write a poem that is a portrait of someone important to you. It doesn’t need to focus so much on what a person looks (or looked) like, as what they are or were.” The corresponding GoodRead’s Author’s Quote for the A to Z Challenge, begins with the letter I. Thanks to NEEKNERAJ of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie who provided the wonderfully creepy photograph.


Credit: saccstry.deviantart.com
———

If I’d been born a ghoul, I think I would’ve killed people. I just happened to be born a human. That’s the only reason why I’m allowed to live a moral life.” ― Sui Ishida

———

I knew her as a little girl,

Though others thought her odd.

She had that “something” about her,

People either loved or abhorred.

At first, I thought, she was enormously strange,

But her quirks endeared me to her.

She protected me from those cruel girls,

One smile from her, they stumbled away on their heels.

She had shocking violet hair on one side,

She was never quite a blond. 

Always experimenting with new looks,

Trying to glean from her appearance,

Who she was inside herself.

Her eyes a brilliant cornflower blue glimmered,

When some person made her enraged.

Her friends all knew some stupid student,

Would soon regret their actions;

She only had to smile.

And some bullies face turned violet, rouge, or primrose.

My friend was odd but lively,

Never afraid to do anything. 

Dragging me along, to be a part of her drama.

Of her wicked practical jokes,

Others whispered she was a bit ‘Tim Burton,’

Calling her the ‘corpse bride.’

But she would always smile,

In a way that scared many,

Who never knew the truth about her —

She was passionate, kind, and loyal.

If you could get past her walls, her insecurities,

She was most lovely and grew to be a beauty.

Her hair still half-purple — it was her thing.

How we knew her for her. 

Her terrifying smile gleamed, 

She could now afford braces,

For teeth that had scared everyone.

And when the braces disappeared,

Her teeth stood in straight white rows.

Her grim frown had turned forever upside down,

She was no longer that weird girl.

Though there was still ‘something’ about her;

Strange became a talent, something sought after,

When she transformed into a swan.

She became a cut diamond, no longer rough, she was —

Perfectly odd. 

——–



———

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: Poem – Florette – “My Daisies” #amwriting #flashfiction #poetry 


Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW.

——-

Credit: Mike Vore

——

Daisy your coat is rough, rusted;

I’d restore your coat true, trust me. 

It used to shine an apple-red.
You’re engine won’t start; words unsaid they’re frustrating. 

——

Daisy May you had your days like, 

The woman I named you for, my wife.

But she is gone now, you’ve decayed

Both of you leave me so dismayed; inside I’ve strife

——-

Daisy, I wonder should I send you —

To the scrap yard, or sell you? 

Should I restore you to glory? 

So those I meet know your story and my wife’s too? 

——-

Nostalgia overwhelms, memories —

Cloud my mind thinking too plenty —

Of back in the day of youth’s glow

When I had both Daisies, I drove through life, with them. 

——–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Poem: Free Verse – “The Battle Infinite” 


http://www.youtube.com

———

Demons dreaming, 

Surround me as I wake;
Oh give me serenity, 
Nightmares creep and ache.

Falling from a mind overwhelmed, 

By imagination on overdrive;

Let my mind be at peace,

Let the demons finally cease.

No understanding have I, 

Why the demons we slaughter,

Are always the same sin.

I defeated you before, 

But you come back for more;

The snake, loathsome reptile,

From Eden you did break.

Losing tiny snake legs, 

To strike a woman’s heel.

How dare you come back, 

To bring me down again.

I pray you keep your distance;

You keep moving closer.

Claustrophobia, panic, 

Praying you don’t turn me to granite;

Pulling out my weapons, 

I’ll battle Medusa harder still.

You can see the braided,

 Depths of my scars;

We know each other well old foe, 

But I won’t go down pleading;

I have light in my armour, 

Not the kind which normal snakes like;

The kind which burns,

Makes snakes writhe for life.

Pain will be your only friend, 

Old foe; you fight the same.

Each and every time I return, 

I don’t know why I turned my back on you;

Those not weary do not see, 

The enemy coming up behind, 

A dagger piercing my back; my heart.

A knock to my head; concussions blind;

But I heal fast, and I heal stronger.

Building my muscles each movement,

I recover; blood may flow, 

And I hurt all the same;

What’s worse, I can’t blame you for all, 

I do this to myself.

Will you ever learn stupid girl?

When are you no longer a frightened child?

There are no excuses to justify my crimes;

I know what is right and yet, 

Time and again I find my foe and fight.

A battle with motions memorized, 

A continual siege; I win and lose.

Pound you into the ground, 

Poison you with your potent venom;

But you bounce back and reform, 

Taking on another sin,

To challenge me for awhile;

Making it sound excellent, 

That such a rest wouldn’t be exuberant.

If I’m smart I liquefy you;

Your blood and more stain the ground.

But since I’m human, 

I complicate the issues.

And there are days I pause, 

To be attacked and left weaponless, 

Filled with panic and worry, 

Wandering the valley as the poison seeps deep.

Only in the coming of dawn do I delight, 

Fortitude returns and I smile small, 

Learning my lesson, 

Time and time again.

Experience keeps teaching despite, 

A woman who continues to decide who she is;

Not knowing, not realizing, 

Life is a gory battle, no one escapes.

The scar tissue builds upon scars;

Wounds of war are often the worst, 

When we are not expecting them.

Pulling the dagger from my own back;

It’s a pain I hate to remember vividly.

But I got up;

And I walked on. 

Feeling the dawn heal me;

As I kept on the road.

To another traveller I might seem,

A terrified, desperate girl.

Yet more often I see the same look in another’s eyes;

The knowledge of heart break, repentance, and experience.

A cycle doomed to repeat until we’ve finally learned;

Bigger hands than ours must deal the blows.

Hands which hold,

Entirety of unknown and known universes;

Hands which cradle the world.

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.  

Poem: Etherees – ” Diamonds, Suits, and Equality.” 


http://www.walllpaperup.com

———–

I could keep on telling you of all the —

Possibilities, endless in row, 

Diamonds glittering, light within, 

Such falseness in clarity, 

Like you, extensively cheap —

You don’t comprehend, 

Lies kill love and —

Con-artists, 

Thrive; I 

See

—-

Through, 

Your lies, 

You’re glass with, 

Fractured cracks split, 

In all directions, 

Blaming me because you’re, 

A lost boy never grown up, 

Buying your way with jewels and, 

Expensive booze on your breath; putrid, 

The smell, of vanity, and self-deceit.

——-

Broken old man, in business suit glaring, 

Imagining you’ve an empire but you’ve,

Only got a shilling and its, 

Currency long past, not used, 

So pay for your glitter, 

Die for Diamond rings, 

You’ve only things, 

And no ounce,

Substance, 

Fake.

—-

Look

Down on, 

Condescend, 

From you high horse, 

Fall on marble, crack, 

You’re a paragon, 

Sayings of virtue spent, 

Lying with each word on your tongue, 

Never saying what you mean and —

Not receiving your just dessert, 

Razing a woman below your boot,

It’s not Madmen; she cares not for jewels.

—–

Rather, she wishes you’d respect her more, 

Pay her equal for the same type of job, 

Not peer down on her to use her, 

Not think she is stupid with —

Her four-year-degree not —

Good enough for you, 

She isn’t going, 

To be stuck, 

Keeping, 

Home.

—–

Jewels, 

Don’t phase, 

Her more than, 

A moment’s past–

She sells them all back, 

Letting you see she’ll toss, 

Your silly rock she’ll not be —

That girl; she fought for her place and, 

The dealings were rough; no respect for —

Her a diamond unformed a jewel still scorned.

——-

In modern world she’s disgusted with the —

Throw-back to Don Drapper; but even he told, 

His teen daughter “You’re beautiful –

The rest is up to you; TV —

Showing reality and, 

The issue at hand, 

Equality means, 

Woman, Man,  

Same. 

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved