Finish-Off Friday Flash Fiction: A Sign From God #amwriting #flashfiction #fiction #christmas 


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting Finish-Off Friday’s. 

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Credit: Tim Mossholder via UpSplash

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Credit: MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie

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“When the comet hit, the town lit up like a Christmas tree. The holidays were usually uneventful so sister Bernadette was surprised when it destroyed the Abbey. It made her think, “. . .her last dash to the mall [with her two friends had] had unforeseen consequences.” 

The sisters near this town were an austere group of nuns. Their Christmas celebration consisted of countless hours stuck in mass. Dinner was no different from any other time of year, except each nun got a piece of disgustingly hard fruit cake. Bernadette was blessed to have two friends who made it possible for her to last through each lacklustre day at the Abbey. 

Sister Sara and sister Pauline, had driven with Bernadette to the shopping center in town, deciding to buy each other Christmas presents this year — though it was frowned uponat the Abbey. Then, Pauline had said the fated words outloud:

 “You know, I’m thinking of leaving the Abbey. I don’t think Our Saviour would’ve liked such an hateful and bitter place. I wish the process of leaving was somehow easier. ” 

Bernadette and Sara had nodded in agreement and that’s when the comet hit the Abbey. All three sisters had grimaced and crossed themselves. 

“I didn’t want all those nuns to die, but I guess when God answers prayers, he really answers them,” Pauline said shocked.

 Despite their genuine sorrow at the deaths of their other sisters (most of them) a small smile touched the lips of all three friends. 

 They threw off their habits and never looked back. Clearly, this was a sign from God. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

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Tale Weavers: #Fiction – Teegan’s Potion Part 1: Tallia, Her Magic Shop, and The Stranger


Thanks to  MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s Tale Weaver prompt:

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MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie

 

Tallia heard the chime as the door to her small magic shop opened. She was usually alerted to a customer’s presence ahead of time. She could feel them before they chose to come inside her store and browse. She could especially feel them when they came to her shop with a purpose.

She brushed back her hair, dyed a light purple-hue of grey as was fashionable. Although, she wasn’t much older than her mid-twenties, her business did well. There was always a a demand for certain products she sold. Her Aunt Willow had run this shop for years before her untimely death.

Tallia had kept the name of the shop: Fairy Dust. She had, however, remodeled the shop Aunt Willow had left her to run. She made the shop modern and inviting, but retained its sense of the mystical. She loved her Aunt, but she also loved that the shop was no longer a hole in the wall.


 

Tallia’s store at first glance, catered to those who were browsing for small treasures or jewelry. Knickknack items which were more magic themed souvenirs or memorabilia, than actual magic.

But hidden among the knickknacks were items which could be powerful if used correctly. The items in the restricted section in the back of the store were more powerful than the ones placed out in the open.

The magical items placed here and there upfront were for decor purposes and to let certain customers know what kind of shop Fairy Dust truly was. Only her regulars were allowed in the back with permission.They knew exactly what they were searching for and how dangerous certain magical ingredients and objects could be.


 

A man called out to Tallia in the shop after she let him browse around for ten-minutes; she waited to see what the man wanted. The fact she had not felt him coming alarmed her.

“Hello is anyone there?” the man asked.

Tallie smiled at the man. He had bright green eyes and dark hair. He was quite attractive, she thought. Then a shadow was caste over her mind. The man appeared harmless enough, but she knew there was some kind of darkness in him.

She held onto the cross hanging from her throat for a moment. It was a protective piece of jewelry and it also confirmed her feelings there was something odd about this man being here. The darkness followed him around and it unnerved Tallia who was starting to experience a headache.

“I’m sorry sir, I’ve had such a busy morning and I need to take a lunch break and go pick up some food. Is there anyway you could come back after lunch?” Tallia attempted to look as if she was faint from hunger.

The man sighed.”I really need your help. It’s not something that can wait.”

“I’m so sorry,” Tallia replied, coming out from behind her cash register.” I need to leave. I can’t wait for food. My blood sugar is too low,” she lied.

The man appeared exasperated. “Alright, I’ll be back in an hour and a half. He handed Tallia his business card. “You will be back right?”

“Of course, Teegan,” she said peering at his business card, “One needs to make a living, don’t they?”

Teegan Foster smiled at this and left out the front door. Tallia could feel the shadow lessening quickly as he walked away from her shop. She decided she would indeed close the store for today.

She hoped this might encourage him to visit another magic shop in the city, where they were more experienced dealing with darker magic. She didn’t want to deal with whatever Teegan Foster’s problem was, unless she had no other choice.

Tallia wrote a quick sign saying she had become ill and would be closed for the rest of the day. She wrote the number of another magic shop on the sign which was close by, for an customers needing emergency supplies. She tapped the sign on the shop’s front door.


 

The following day Tallia returned to work refreshed. Some of her regulars had come to the store this morning. She chatted with them as she helped them find correct items for spells and potions.

She swapped stories with them and they laughed at the happenings in each other’s lives. Many of them had known Tallia since she was as a small girl at the shop; her Aunt had raised her.

Sometime later, Tallia’s head started to throb. She clutched the cross around her neck, feeling the dark shadow around a certain someone drawing closer.

Her regulars had left long ago. She was all alone as she sat down on a stool behind the counter. A green-eyed and sharply dressed Teegan Foster came in the door and stopped abruptly in front of Tallia had the cash register. She instantly felt his darkness clouding her mind and making her dizzy.

“Are you feeling better?” Teegan asked her.

Tallia nodded.”I’m fine, I’ll be fine,” she murmured.

Teegan frowned, “I’m sorry, you don’t look well. That’s my fault, here.” She saw him whisper something and the shadow faded and her pain lessened.

“What, what can I help you with Mr. Foster?” Tallia asked, her voice unsteady.

“It’s just Teegan, Tallia. I need a particular potion. Your Aunt Willow was the only one who could make it for me, and her mother before her. I’m positive you know how to make the potion too. She must have mentioned me at sometime; I’m a long time customer.”

“You don’t look so old?”

“I’m older than I appear, much older. But you might not understand such magic yet.”

He came closer to her and stroked her cheek gently.”It’s okay Tallia. The potion I get here, it takes the darkness away for a long time. The pain you feel, the potion will ensure it doesn’t come from me again ever.”

Tallia nodded mutely. When Teegan, touched her, she felt a jolt which was beyond magic. She was attracted to him, more than she would like to admit. But she didn’t trust him.

Instead of looking at Teegan, she stepped away and brought out her Aunt’s old tome from a small room behind the front counter. It was a volume full of customers, spells, and potions from the past two centuries.

Tallia eventually found a page for Teegan, explaining everything she had to do to make his potion. It wasn’t a difficult potion to make and the ingredients seemed normal, she noticed with surprise.

She wondered why Teegan needed it so badly. She also saw the writing of the spell was neither her Aunt’s or her Great-Aunt’s writing. It was a script she had never noticed in this tome before. A woman with skilled and flowing handwriting had first written down this potions recipe.


 

“It will be an hour or so,” Tallia told Teegan. ” I’m sorry, you’ll be waiting so long. You could’ve called the store and I would’ve made it early this morning.”

“Um, I think you would’ve refused me. You would’ve went home again. Am I right Tallia?”

She flushed. “I wasn’t well, Teegan. Honestly.”

“Sure you weren’t,” he said. His smile was dazzling and he had dimples.

“I’ll wait here for the potion. You’ve a comfortable waiting area in the front there. I can sit and read the news on my phone.”

Tallia peered at her modern but cozy waiting are in front of the store’s large window,” Suite yourself, do you want something to drink?”

“A coffee please, with some milk,” Teegan said.

“One moment,” Tallia replied, feeling uneasy about him.

Although he seemed nice, she wondered what happened if Teegan didn’t receive his potion. What could be worse than the shadow surrounding him? She also wondered how old he really was?  Was this potion what kept him from aging? She shook her head at the thought. It wasn’t possible, was it?

Magic often surprised Tallia but not trusting Teegan, she put a bit of sleeping drought and blended it with his milk and coffee. She might require more time than an hour to make this potion.

She wanted to call another magic shop she knew had been around for far longer than she wanted to know. Her Aunt’s store had been relatively a new magic shop, despite it being in the family for generations.

Tallia felt the owner of the ancient store The Black Coven, a man a much older than herself named Jude, might have records what this potion her Aunt made for Teegan actually did. Surely, someone else of his kind had used it as well.

She served Teegan his coffee and he caught her blue-eyes and held them. She felt herself flush. He drank about half the coffee and set in down. He smiled at Tallia, thanking her and meeting her eyes again.

She went to the back of the store to start gathering ingredients. When Tallia came back out front fifteen-minutes later, Teegan was fast asleep. She sighed, trying to calm the hammering of her chest. She felt a bit guilty. Ignoring her guilt, she went to call Jude, hoping he would enlighten her on Teegan’s mysterious potion.


©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

B&P’s Shadorma and Beyond: “In Darkness Lies” #poetry #writing #amwriting 


This is last week’s Shadorma prompt, hosted by MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie. The poem, “Travelling Through The Dark” by William E. Stafford. 

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Credit: http://www.transformationplus.com

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There are things, 

Best not explained and

Thought of once, 

Forgotten. 

Some times rise up in memory

Some nights lost.

—–

Perhaps the —

Road was offending —

Nature not —

Giving her, 

Space required for her to thrive, 

Voice unheard.

—— 

But I wish, 

Someone out there could —

Hear nature’s —

Whispers cried. 

Then we wouldn’t harm her deer, 

Not anything.

——

We might have —

More respect for such creatures whom —

Know not where —

They tread is —

Surely the end, too dangerous, 

So they die. 

—-

And like that —

Deer killed by the road,

Womb full of —

Baby who —

Won’t ever be born; Nature —

Cries for loss. 

—–

If the corpse, 

Lies there on the road, 

Some idiot, 

Not paying —

Attention; he’ll hit it and —

Kill himself. 

—–

Though the deers, 

Death is so tragic, 

So is the —

Loss of a —

Human life more; though we think, 

Some don’t think. 

——

Perhaps a —

Sign some flashing lights, 

Saying, “Deer —

Crossing Please —

Be aware,” but some don’t read. 

The corpse goes —

—–

A gaping —

Grave to eternity, 

Mother and —

Fawn are gone. 

No vigil, no prayer, no thought, 

Nature mourns. 

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“Travelling Through the Dark” By William E. Stanford 

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Traveling through the dark I found a deer

dead on the edge of the Wilson River road.

It is usually best to roll them into the canyon:

that road is narrow; to swerve might make more dead.

—–

.By glow of the tail-light I stumbled back of the car

and stood by the heap, a doe, a recent killing;

she had stiffened already, almost cold.

I dragged her off; she was large in the belly..

 ——-

My fingers touching her side brought me the reason—

her side was warm; her fawn lay there waiting,

alive, still, never to be born.

Beside that mountain road I hesitated.

.——-

The car aimed ahead its lowered parking lights;

under the hood purred the steady engine.

I stood in the glare of the warm exhaust turning red;

around our group I could hear the wilderness listen.

.——–

I thought hard for us all—my only swerving—,

then pushed her over the edge into the river.

——-

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Music Friday Prompt: Poetry – Free Verse – “Silence Is A Sound.”


Thanks for the music post from Mind Loves Misery’s Menagerie. The prompt song is “Sound of Silence” by Simon and Garnfunkel. Most recently, it is noted, the band Disturbed, did a wicked version of this classic.

Also thanks to The Daily Post for the prompt words MuseProfound, and Elusive.

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http://www.lawofficer.com

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Hello darkness you’re my muse;

A have profound “visions” in my mind,

They’re haunting me again.

Such elusive beings, wisps of vapour transforming;

I’m not sure anyone will understand,

But I strum my guitar and I hum the tune, 

A melody to haunt profoundly through the decades.

Darkness, friend or foe? 

Who would know silence has a sound?

What is the sound of silence, no one ever knows? 

If darkness is the place I most hide, 

Where the “seeds” of this “vision” keep;

Than why do I wander “streets“with “lamps . . . stabbing,” 

My eyes in the cold empty street?

How does that light touch the silence elusive

Silent isn’t a concrete thing.

It’s not physical, so how do lights hurt silence? 

How do you not notice all those “people“(thousands), 

And hear their voices while they stay silent?

How do you know what they are “hearing?”

Only they know if they’re “listening;”

And the “songs“they sing in silence –silence would mean, 

You couldn’t hear anything sung, 

Or know the “song“they theoretically, could sing.

And if no one dares “speak,” somehow I think, 

The silence still eludes them.

And if you say silence is a “cancer grow[ing];”

I’ll tell you what peace I find in it, 

When “fools” they do not “speak;”

But you ring your voice, it echoes,

And you know, no one with silence is disturbed,

So your voiceless voice like “raindrops falling,”

 Is silence never heard.

Can silence be heard or unheard?

A paradox, perhaps? 

Are you sheep to the slaughter to this “neon god;

And what “neon sign flashed” in “warning?”

If the “sign“was a god what did it warn, 

That you were all sheep being led astray? 

And who is this “prophet?”

They’re so many to speak, Elijah or Danial?

The Islamic Mohammed?

And “tenement halls” which from came “whispers,” 

They’re overcrowded apartment buildings.

Apartments with small rooms, where people —

Are stuffed, having no personal space.

Even here, is there no silence which has sound?

Wouldn’t it be a dirty place, no room to move,

To breathe, to live, — to find peace?

Yet the words of said “prophet” are, 

On the “subway” walls.

Means I think, the writings on the wall

Or referring to people stuffed into trains,

 And metros as cattle too? 

I think in the thunderous silence, 

Everyone is missing what’s coming;

And no one knows the truth or breaks the silence. 

Yet a few “whispers” I detect,

 Elusive for their sound;

And silence rings and breaks sound barriers, 

A sound which is never heard. 

But you dear listener, hear the sound profoundly clear;

And wonder yet, how silence is a sound? 

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“Sound of Silence” – Disturbed 

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Flash Fiction for The Aspiring Writer: A Place to Sleep


“This is frustrating, Marcus.” Trisha complained.”Every morning at 6:00 am, the workmen start hammering and climbing up the scaffolding. Lulu and I just fall asleep, after her needing to eat all night, then the workmen arrive and make noise. I haven’t slept more than two-hours in a row for three-months.”

Marcus frowned, he wanted to help Trisha and Lulu. He could see how tired and run down Trisha was. Marcus went for a drive so he could think. He found himself driving through a neighbourhood with unique older houses.

To Marcus’s surprise, one of the houses had a ‘For Sale,’ sign. When Marcus walked into the house, he knew the house was perfect for his family. The house was updated five-years ago and the price was feasible. Trisha needed to see this house.

That evening Trisha stood in the great room of the house Marcus had found them. She turned around and sighed, “It’s quiet.” 

“So, we can buy the house?” Marcus asked.

Trisha laughed sleepily, “Yes.”

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Scafolding
Ellesepeth
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Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting this Flash Fiction challenge. Want to join? Check-out the link above.

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©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.

Sunday Photo Fiction: The Boss Who Froze


After a half-hour dozing in bed, Cara realized she had slept-in. She jumped into her shower then decided to style her hair into a messy bun. She slathered on face products, blended her foundation, and applied mascara. Cara was relieved a pinstripe dress and black cardigan greeted her when she opened her closet. She threw on a wool coat, warm scarf, and applied her lipstick. Cara zipped up her tall black boots and put on leather gloves.

The wind stung Cara’s face as she walked against it to her SUV, which had been warming up as she prepared for work. The storm was awful and Cara arrived at the office thankful she made it to work without incident. Only two cars were in the parking lot. She ran to the office main door and noticed a sign saying the office would be closed today. Cara wished someone had emailed her before she left home.

As Cara ran back to her car, she tripped over something solid. She glimpsed behind her only to see the frozen body of one of the founding Lawyers of the firm, Mr. Duncan. Cara screamed, arising lightening fast and getting into her SUV. She fumbled with her phone, dialing the police as tears blurred her vision.

 

Snowy Car
A Mixed Bag 2010 A Snowy Winter Day

Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF. You can join too!

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©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.