Sunday Photo Fiction: The Horsemen’s Head #flashfiction #amwriting #SleepyHollow

Thanks to Alastair Forbes for hosting SPF. 


Credit: A Mixed Bag – Alistair Forbes


Ichabode Crane was observing the dim forest when he noticed the bald head buried beneath the tree of death. Each morning it was Ichabode’s job to discover what the headless horseman had left behind from his nights decapitating helpless citizens.  

Today he found two headless corpses half-buried. He shivered thinking of the literal trail of blood that often followed the horseman. 

Though Ichabod was a medical doctor, he’d never found any heads attached to the bodies the horseman discarded. His heart pounded and he began to sweat as he clawed the head from the ground with his fingers. 

The hair felt dirty and greasy. The waxen skin was warm and he was sure the head had soulless eyes beneath its lids. While he stared, Ichabod’s hands shook. The blood running from the head’s eyes, suddenly, caught his attention as they began to open of their own accord. 

Coal eyes with pupils as red as poppies, alerted Ichabod this head belonged to the horseman. Ichabod drank from his trusty flask, whiskey and opium to numb him. 

But perhaps he drank too much. When he awoke, the head lay on his lap and Ichabod rested against the horrid tree. The moon exposed him and his opium veil faded. He felt too alert. The head’s mouth fell open revealing carnivorous teeth. 

Soon, the thundering footsteps of the black horse and the armed body of the headless horseman could be heard. He screeched as the horseman took one slice at his neck, but then, Ichabod offered the horseman the head. 

The horseman dropped his sword and went to his knees on the ground. He took the head in his gnarled hands and placed it on his neck. The horseman growled, a sound of rage in a demonic tongue. 

He gazed at Ichabod, “Run, go now. I will spare you for returning my head. Everyone else in Sleepy Hollow will join me in death.” 

Ichabod had never considered himself a coward but he ran anyways, never peering behind him as screams filled the night. 

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.  

Three Little Tales: My Worst Fear #nonfiction #fiction #amwriting #3LineTales 

Thanks to Sonya of Only 100 Words for hosting #3LineTales


Credit: Diana Feil via UnSplash


My smile it isn’t real, although I appear happy and unafraid. My smile is goofy and I’m laughing but in reality, I’m quaking inside. Clowns have always frightened me so much I used to have terrible dreams about them even into my teens; so many nights I woke up screaming in horror. My husband doesn’t understand it but standing beside this clown is my worst nightmare and he had better be grateful; it’s not everyday I take a photograph with my the thing I fear the most. 


©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner: Poem – Synchronocity – “Beach Day” #amwriting #flashfiction #poetry

Thanks to Roger Shipp for hosting FFftPP.


Credit: Roger Shipp


Sand beach, I bury my toes,

Sand squishes between them, I sigh;



Blue sky so clear, clouds like cotton, 

 Feel at home, reading trashy book;



Hearing waves crashing in and out, 

Aroma of salt, sea; sun streams;



Scents of cocoanut and aloe 

SPF 100 or I’ll burn quick;

Smoothed in. 


Floppy hat and Marilyn swim suit, 

Magazines read while the dog splashes;



Blanket soft with a bit of sand,

Jackie.O sunglasses worn; 



Wet dog shaking everywhere, 

Angry crab in dogs mouth shook;



Calm, tranquility; wading in, 

Ocean’s rhythm soothes, stops thinking;



 Sky fading purple; ocean green —

Dark and ominous, storm coming;



Rain starts to fall, cold and loud, 

Taking umbrella down, packing;

Forced home. 


Perfect beach moment gone for now, 

Sitting in the cabin, storm roars;

Rain pours. 


Sleeping in silken covers, dog stretching,  

She’s bathed, we’re napping, resting time; 



©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 


Finish Off Fridays: The Summons #amwriting #flashfiction 

Thanks to Lorraine from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting FOF. 


Credit: Lorraine


“I had never been summoned to Number 208 [by the park] before; I nervously adjusted my coat . . .” A person could book a pick-up online or by phoning into FedEx but you couldn’t summon a particular delivery person, could you? 

“April, it means what I said,” Becky from the warehouse told me on the phone, “I’m not being rude, the lady who lives there wanted you, specifically, at her home.” 

The door was open when I arrived. “I’m here,” a frail female voice rasped. 

Walking into the house I heard the respirations of a woman on a ventilator. She was all hollows and sallow skin. Her hair was whispy white and thinning. Eyes the color of blue-bells greeted me but they were bloodshot. 

The woman grasped a yellow envelope with a trembling hand. She shook the envelope and a key dropped out. 

Her shaking fingers held it out, “For me?” I asked. 

I took the key staring at it in confusion; it appeared ancient. As I examined it I heard the woman gasp something. I moved closer to her and held her hand attempting to hear her strained voice. She shook her head with a ragged sigh and breathed her last.


©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Tale Weaver: Poem – Synchronocity – “A Deadly Night” #amwriting #poetry #fiction #taleweavers

Here is last week’s  Tale Weaver prompt, held by MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie. The prompt is a story about being caught in a deep freeze. 


Credit: Winter Wolly


Stuck fast in this ice, no relief, 

Car pushed off he highway it’s —

Dark, cold


We’re lucky we’re uninjured that, 

We’ve signals on our smart phones; night



There’s no gas left in the tank from, 

Starting, then turning off the heat

Stars bleed


Giant glimmering balls, twinkle, 

Outside our windows; but we’re still —

Stuck here. 


We called the AMA, come find —

Us because we’re frozen; minus 



Nighttime is bitter, freezing we’re, 

Huddled beneath silver blankets, 



Then he starts shaking, lips so blue

Then he’s still; hypothermia



But the sun is rising now; we’ve —

Made it through the dark; my friend he —

Yet sleeps. 


Hearing voices outside our car, 

Come to save us now, opening —

Our doors. 


Light leaks in, such needed warmth; I —

feel my hands, shaking you awake, 

You blink


©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Friday Music Prompt:  Poem – A L’Arora – ” Obesssion Deludes” #amwriting #poetry #music 

Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting the Friday Music Prompt. Friday’s song was, “Waiting for Tonight” by Jennifer Lopez.


“Waiting For Tonight” – Jennifer Lopez


Credit: Art Nouveau VSCOcam, painting art on Instagram

(Her View) 

Tonight’s the night he’s meeting me here later

Passions ignited, we’ve fires, need sating

All the desires of our time together, at last met

I’ll be shaking, moaning, chasing the stars

Caught in the moment, we’ll shatter as glass

Wrapped in your strong arms, I’ll have a blast. 

Waiting for tonight, excitement beaming

When you and I are lovers holding,  fast. 


Preening, applying makeup and shaking

Preparing for you, our first time creating. 

Ensuring our night’s perfect; it’ll end complete. 

Skin grazingcaressing, nothing sub-par

Lovers busy enjoying repast

Perfect lingerie, beneath a gown fast

Becoming a favourite; it’s perfect and tight

Rip it off, no need to be so classy


Waiting for tonight, our love embracing, 

Perfection between us, this night for our sake. 

I’ve planned it exactly, we’ll not overstep

Each moments vital, at the finale beseech. 

Give into our lust, marvel in love far —

Better than any you’ve ever had; here we’ll last, 

Until mornings stunning rays of light

I wait for him, he’s mine; trembling, my hands clasp.


(His View) 

Tonight it came, the nightmare couldn’t wait

She’s obssessed, unstable, any day she’ll break.

Better to stop, was never invested, not set

On staying with her; she’s a whale beached.

Though thin like a beanpole, not nice at all

Loathsome personality, running fast —

Driving passed; her obsession frightening

I was ‘nice’ once or twice, now there’s an impasse.  


Need freedom, her annoying voice I hate,

Can life be normal again? Not Hell made? 

Can I touch the one I love, and not regret

Bringing him into drama; twice I cheated, 

Boyfriend enraged; a dumb girl caused my fall. 

 Told her, “I like men most;” but left aghast —

She doesn’t care, spoiled girl; not smart, no insight, 

Traps into engagement; I’ll always pass


© Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: What Big Teeth You Have #flashfiction #fiction #amwriting 

Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW.


Credit: Maria @ Doodles and Scribbles


Lauren worked at the Starbucks until 12:00 am at night. She thought after a time, she would feel safer and more comfortable walking home in the dark. Her apartment was only four-blocks away.

This evening she felt particularly on edge and the noise of metal dropping somewhere nearby, echoed in the night. 

Lauren began to shake, she had one block to go when she started to run. Then there was only the front door to get into her apartment. She hurriedly opened the door and screamed when she felt someone touch her arm. 

 “Calm down Lauren, it’s only me. Your neighbour Alice. I’m headed over to my sisters. Brandy and her kids are all ill with the flu and I’m going to help her with the little ones.” 

“Oh Alice,” Lauren said trembling. She squeezed Alice’s arm, happy she was there. “I’m sorry about Brandy and her kids, I didn’t mean to freak out on you. It scares me walking home in the dark alone.” 

Alice clicked her tongue, “A girl of your age shouldn’t be alone at night.” When she bared her wolf-like teeth, Lauren knew it was too late. 


©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Sunday Photo Fiction: Part Seven – Nineteen-Years Later

Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF.

Lamp Post SPF
A Mixed Bag

“Ah, my back. A bullet hit me,” Chad was almost crying. He was half-awake and half in another wold.

He was dreaming of a lamp post glowing in the night beside a park bench. Soothing Russian words came from a man in front of him. The man was a man he had thought was his dead father, Tom.

Then, Sam shook Chad awake,”I know you’re not trained for this Chad. I’m so proud of you, but you have to stay awake.”

Chad groaned, turned on his stomach. He was shocked to see he had been shot right through his cartoon seal tattoo.

“Marrion, look at my tattoo.” Chad rasped.

Marrion was hiding on the floor beside Chad and Sam. They were behind the science lab counters in the back of the lab.

She gasped, grabbing the device she had used to scan Chad’s tattoo before and scanning his tattoo again. She hurriedly, grabbed gauze from a cupboard under a counter.

“Thank God,” she said. “Chad hold the gauze against your tattoo or you’re going to die.”

She smiled at both Sam and Chad: “The bullet deactivated Chad’s tattoo. For all of the technology put into the tattoo, none of it works now.”

The gunshots came closer and the glass from the front door of the lab shattered. Then there were voices.” I remember that voice speaking Russian,” Chad murmured.

“Tom speaks Russian.”  Sam said, then was shocked to hear the distinct tone of his brother’s voice.

“Tom’s here,” Marrion said shaking, pressing her hand against the gauze on Chad’s wound.

“It will be okay honey, I’ve got Tom.” Sam said soothingly. He got up, holding a large gun ready to fire. He slowly, walked towards the sound of Tom’s voice.

“Well, well,” a voice said in English.”My brother Sam. Here to kill me again? You need to give me Chad now.”

“Get ready to run Chad. It’s going to hurt you,” Marrion whispered.

They both escaped out an emergency door to the lab. The fire alarms went off covering Chad’s screams of pain.

He heard yelling and footsteps behind him, before he again, passed-out.

Read part 6 here.

©Mandibelle16.(2016) All Rights Reserved.