100 Word Wednesdays, Fiction, Memories/Childhood, My Thoughts, Nature, Relationship, Writing, Writing Challenges

100 Word Wednesday: That Forever Scent #amwriting #fiction #memories #100WordWednesday


Thanks to Bikurgurl for hosting the current #100WordWednesday. My apologies this week a hundred words turned into a few hundred that could not be cut. 

——-

Credit: Bikurgurl

———

The balmy August air, humid and filled with scent of sand and the lake was a smell I would never forget. Years later, I’d be sitting on my chair in the nursing home  and that peculiar fragrance mixed with your cologne would suddenly take me back. 

I was leaning against the ice cream stand, watching various kids play in the lake. The line up for ice cream had been long but I wasn’t picky about my ice cream flavor — anything chocolate would do. The server presented me with a gigantic three-scoop ice cream cone but had no idea how I’d eat it all. The server told me that the gentleman behind me had paid for it, but gazing back I had no idea which guy he meant. 

Then, I went and I hid ( where I am now) behind the ice cream stand. That’s when the scent of sea and sand, and of sunscreen was heightened by the somehow familiar scent of your subtle cologne, citrusy and woodsy, mixed with the fragrances of the beach. It was a heavenly and sexy scent. It even overwhelmed the taste of the chocolate ice cream. My eyes closed inhaling your forever scent.

Minutes later, I opened them and you were there, leaning against the building beside me. Sharp indigo eyes and all smooth muscles and toned arms that were lightly tanned. You were devouring a three-scoop cone of Tiger ice cream as you stood watching me, reaching out only to wipe the melted chocolate away from dribbling down my hand. Even then, you were always gentle. 

But I felt your touch through the napkin, saw the light stubble on your cheeks and your full lips as you come close for a moment. Your divine cologne mingling with the smells of the lake, made my legs weak and you knew it too. There was laughter in your deep-blue eyes. 

“I can’t eat anymore of this you know?”  I said looking dubiously at the half melted cone. 

You chuckled, still staring at me,”It’s okay, but you’ve got some chocolate here,” you said wiping it off the corner of my lips with your thumb. 

I could hardly breath. The memory, the feelings, they were so intense. I wanted to be anywhere else but on the beach at that moment. I wanted to be somewhere private with you. 

It was a dreamlike memory, but this dream had once been our reality — our meet-cute. Later as we chatted I recalled you stroking my arms with a feather soft touch. You threw my melted icecream away, tangling your hands in my long hair. Bending down your lips meant mine, again and again. Intoxicated I devoured your scent comingled with the beach, the water, and the taste of your mouth.

 I missed you still. 

Hours later, I was awake in my chair in my room at the nursing home. I wondered if on the otherside you’d be there to meet me soon. If that same scent that made my knees weak so long ago, could be felt again as you you would smile with warm bedroom eyes and gentle concern. I hoped you and I could be together again in the celestial here-after as we had once been in life; friends and lovers both. 

——–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Children/YA/Family, Fiction, Memories/Childhood, My Thoughts, Nature, Religion/Morality, Sunday Photo Fiction, Writing, Writing Challenges

Sunday Photo Fiction: Awakening the Dragon #flashfiction #amwriting #dragon


Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF. 

——

Credit: A Mixed Bag

——

Sophia hid in her closet, it was her only safe place. Hanging on a ceiling was a mobile with a handcrafted dragon. She remembered thinking the dragon was frightening, but whenever the darkness in her room swallowed her, the dragon’s eyes flashed; the shadows were obliterated. 

She also remembered when her mom first hit her. She scrubbed Sophia’s cut and it was excruciating as was the burning stringent liquid her mom poured on it.

 Suddenly, Sophia heard yelling and stomping. The closest door flew open — her mother was drunk again. 
Instantly, the dragon’s eyes above her caught fire. He grew into a monster with golden scales and the scent of fire and ash, spreading and filling Sophia’s entire bedroom. He blew a blaze of fire at her mom but only the bottle of Kirkland Tequila (1.75 Litres/$20.00) in her mom’s hand disintegrated. 

In words veiled in smoke the dragon hissed at Sophia’s mom who nodded; she understood the dragon’s warning. He breathed out his last plume of smoke and except for the acrid smell, it was if Sophie’s dragon had never awoken. 

She crawled out of her hiding place and petted the handcrafted dragon hearing him purr.

——- 

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, Friday Music Prompt, History, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, Music and Performers, My Thoughts, Relationship, Religion/Morality

Music Prompt: Teegan’s Potion – Part 3: Teegan’s Potion and His Passion (Rated R) #fiction #paranormal #romance #amwriting


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for Friday’s music prompt, “I Don’t Want To Talk About It” by Rod Stewart. The song is loosely used in part three. Warning Part Three contains Adult Content. 

——-

“I Don’t Want To Talk About It” – Rod Stewart

——-

http://www.pinterest.com

———-

Tallia drove back to Fairy Dust as fast as her Vespa would take her without losing the giant fish off the Vespa’s back compartment. She was feeling afraid because she knew Teegan would be nearly awake, but felt certain he would be in enough of a fog she would have time to make the potion he required. She prayed the tonic took his darkness away, the shadow that stalked him. But at the same time Tallia knew, the shadow was Teegan.

The presence of darkness lurked as Tallia quietly opened the back door, slipping inside her shop. She set the goldfish in his bag, down on a countertop and stood for a moment blinking tiredly. It was the middle of the afternoon and a wave of fatigue overwhelmed her. She had been up late thinking about Teegan, what he could have possibly done hundreds of years ago to be cursed so wickedly. She was thinking about him in other ways too, Tallia realized blushing.

She wasn’t sure what she’d do if Teegan knew she’d drugged him, what he’d say or do. She didn’t know how much in control Teegan was of his darkness right now. The wisest thing Tallia could do was make him his potion whenever he needed it, whatever kind of potion it was. She thought about the wisdom Teegan hopefully acquired in his centuries alive. Would it make him extra understanding?

Then again, she could be wrong. Some people never learned their lessons despite experience. Yet Tallia was sure, in Teegan’s startling green eyes had been knowledge of dark deeds and lessons learned with difficulty. The blackness in his gaze almost had the affect of repelling Tallia at first.

At the same time, his emerald eyes were seductive and drew her too Teegan. No matter his real age, he appeared to be in his thirties. He was ridiculously good looking in the truest sense. She could smell his particular pleasing scent from where she leaned against the counter in the back of her store. Where she put together potions and caste spells for magical items customer’s required.

Perhaps, it was her heightened sense of smell which brought to life Teegan’s addictive scent, or maybe her memories were more vivid due to her attraction to him.

Tallia jumped when a voice whispered in her ear.

——-

“Where’d you go? How come my potion’s not made? I need it now Tallia,” he whispered.
“Teegan?”

“Yep, I’m awake, thanks for the nap by the way. Did you find out what you needed too? I see you got the giant gold fish. You’re worried about me and the shadow around me which makes you sick. You went and talked to Jude. He’s been around over a century. Old for most humans, but not as old as me, Tallia.”

“I didn’t talk to Jude, he’s in the hospital because he had a stroke and isn’t doing well,” Tallia sad with sadness.” I talked to his great-grandson Aspen. He run’s the store now I guess. He said you were cursed, that you did something terrible. That’s why you’ve so much darkness. How do you make it go away Teegan? What happens if you don’t take this potion?”

Tallia felt warm and comfortable and realized Teegan had moved to hold her from behind, his arms crossed against her stomach. Teegan’s head suddenly lay against hers and she could feel him sigh as if he could finally relax. Tallia had never been so near to Teegan, she felt dizzy in good way. It felt wonderful to be held so gently, though she wondered if Teegan realized he had moved to comfort her.

——

Moments later, Tallia felt Teegan’s lips firmly on the side of her neck, traveling up under her ear and sucking gently on her earlobe. His lips moved back down her neck to the v-neck of her sweater. He kissed her over her heart and Tallia shivered when his lips traced her neck, went over her chin, and landed on her lips. Her heart was racing, she felt hot and cold all over.

Teegan bit her lip gently, seeking access to her mouth. His tongue met hears with need. Tallia couldn’t think, could only feel. Her connection with Teegan was something new to her. This sense of knowing him and recognizing him, beyond the physical sense. In her mind, she could feel him encouraging her to relax.

“I’ll take care of you,” he whispered.

Teegan kissed Tallia until she was breathless, his hands massaging her stomach, sides, and hips. His hand moved up to squeezing her breast over her sweater and short coat. She moaned when he broke off his the kiss leaving Tallia wanting. He breathed in the crook of her neck, his hand not moving, but not leaving either. It seemed as if hours had passed but it had only been minutes.

Teegan collected himself and moved a distance from Tallia as he spoke: “Tallia, I can’t. I want to, but I shouldn’t have done that; it confused you. I need you to make my potion now please. You’re the only one who can do it. It has to be one of your bloodline. And if you don’t I’ll turn evil. I’ll be a curse myself, a terrible man. I’ve done such evil because I’m cursed, or was before your gifted ancestor came up with this potion. It’s the only way to keep me from turning, Tallia. You and I, we’re tied together because of your ancestor. You remind me of her,” Teegan remarked.

“You need to tell me the entire story. This isn’t fair Teegan. Of course, I’ll make the potion. But my Aunt never told me any of this. The cancer took her a way in so little time. I need more answers from you,” Tallia pleaded.

I don’t want to talk about it Tallia. Make the potion. You’re breaking my heart here,” Teegan said rolling his eyes.

“What if I don’t?”

“I’ll be evil, as I’ve said and as I’m sure Aspen told you. I’ll hurt you, probably kill you, and I don’t want to do that. If I kill you, I’ll be evil forever — until someone kills me. You’re the last in your line. Make the potion, Tallia, we could be happy.”

“We?”

“Tallia, make it now! You know I’m not trying to deceive you. You can feel it.”

“Yes, you’re right. I do feel you’re being genuine. I’ll make it as fast I can.”

——

Tallia gathered all the ingredients she had laid out earlier and brought them to an extremely large mixing bowl. She measured all the ingredients into the bowl quickly and accurately, barely thinking. She followed the directions in Aunt Willow’s tome and chanted the right words when she needed to say them. Pouring out the water of the giant gold fish’s bag in a sink, she slid the giant flopping gold fish into her bowl. With wide eyes she watched the potion simmer and turn scarlet.

Aspen had been right, the goldfish was a sacrifice of life. Although a mouse or anything small would’ve done the job, but her ancestor’s writing said the giant goldfish was preferred. Tallia strained the chunks of ingredients from the mixture; the goldfish had disintegrated.

Tallia pulled a beer stein out of her cupboard to Teegan’s surprise. She poured half of the scarlet liquid into the earthen beer stein. Teegan had been watching Tallia create the potion the entire time. He hadn’t said anything, only watched her, familiar with her actions. He’d probably watched her Aunt Willow and her Great-Aunt do the same. And many of Tallia’s ancestors, if she could believe his story.

She turned around from the giant bowl and found Teegan beside her, leaning against the counter studying her. His hand moved, pushing her light purple-grey hair behind her ear. He was so much taller than her, Tallia thought.

Teegan smiled when she offered him the beer stein.”Where’s yours?”he asked her.

“Where’s my what?”

Your half of the potion? You have to drink it with me,” Teegan told her.

Tallia was about to protest but he was gazing at her in a particular way. She noticed the pain usually hidden in his eyes present. She felt it through her being and it softened her heart; her protests crumbled.

” I wish I wasn’t so intuitive, Teegan. You do really need me to drink your tonic with you? Do you promise I’ll be okay?”

“I promise. Your Aunt, she was always fine. You’ll find it invigorating actually,” he said.

Tallia nodded reading what Teegan had told her in the tome beside her on the counter. How did she miss that direction? Peering up she noticed him pouring her a beer stein of the remaining liquid. She took the potion from him, grimacing because she knew the ingredients in it. She tasted a bit of the potion, testing the flavour. It tasted like cinnamon and a woodsy red wine. How could that be? 

“Bottoms up?” Teegan said holding up his stein.

Talia clinked her stein with his, “Slainte,” she said.

—–

Teegan’s potion was easy going down. Tallia could feel a lightness, as if her cares were floating free. She felt energy, Teegan was right. His potion did feel invigorating. Her mind felt intensely perceptive as well. Swallowing the remenants of the liquid she saw Teegan had already finished his.

“Better, huh?” he asked.

“Yeah, it’s amazing stuff,” she said peering everywhere, everything around her was completely crystal clear. Her early fatigue was gone. Tallia noticed Teegan’s dark circles had faded. He appeared younger, his few wrinkles smoothed out. He was gazing at her again in certain way, and she knew from the flicker in his green-eyes what he wanted. Tallia felt almost drunk, except the potion made everything feel real.

She laughed aloud and Teegan frowned,”What?”

“No you’re not getting that from me,” she said.

“It wasn’t difficult to get a kiss and more from you before. You like me. I can tell, I like you too,” Teegan said, eyes darkening and meeting her own.

“No,” Tallia said laughing again. “You have to earn it. Take me out. Tell me about yourself and my ancestors. Did you sleep with one of my great- great – female relatives?”

“Don’t you feel like you’re burning up inside? I don’t know what I’ll do if I can’t . . .” he said approaching Tallia, following her as if she were prey. “I slept with the first of your ancestors I knew, she was my .  . .  my woman, for a while. But she died and we never had a child.”

Tallia backed away from Teegan smiling, wary but turned on at the same time. He was irresistible and Tallia found herself trapped against a wall. She laughed more as Teegan stripped off his shirt and unbuckled his belt. Her mouth ran dry seeing his finely sculpted body. He grinned and grabbed both her hands, holding her hands above her head. Tallia whimpered and Teegan chuckled.

“I’m not, I’m not a one night type of girl and you’re . . . you smell so good. But you’ve lived so much longer than me, what could you possibly see in me,” she murmured.

“You’re not one night Tallia.  I was thinking many many and I see you’re beautiful and gifted; you’re also intelligent.You didn’t immediately trust me.”

“Okay . . .” Tallia began but Teegan’s lips roughly met hers and she gasped as his tongue invaded sliding against hers. His hands were everywhere beneath her shirt and bralette. Then her shirt and bralette were gone and his mouth was there and she couldn’t contain her cries. “Oh no . . .”

He removed his mouth breathing hard, “Stop?”

“Oh please no!” Tallia said.

He chuckled and continued loving her with his mouth. “Teegan . . .” she whispered, feeling her body melt into his.

He pulled off the rest of her clothes, kissing her slightly round stomach and turning her around to kiss Tallia all over back and to her surprise, over her hips and bottom. His fingers found her center and rubbed below, circling her sweet spot, his thumb pressing against her.

“Please please. . .”

Teegan kissed her bottom again and turned her around so his head was level with Tallia’s belly button. He kissed her stomach before thrusting two fingers into her core, she shook and nearly screamed. It hurt but it was okay because the pleasure of his fingers going in and out of her was intense. She wailed when his fingers took her over the edge.

He kissed her, his lips and tongue centered on her core. The sensations Tallia felt were indescribable. Teegan was teasing her, he knew she need to come again but wasn’t letting her; he was making her wait for him. Teegan removed the rest of his clothes and gently lifted Tallia’s body onto the counter. He pushed both his fingers inside her again, adding a third.

“I’ve never . . .” she whispered suddenly shy.

“At your age? I’m flattered, no one values that these days,” Teegan whispered.

Tallia flushed, “Well it’s complicated. It’s gone but, I never had sex.”

“What do you mean?” Teegan asked stopping. His voice sounded grim.

Don’t stop, don’t,” Tallia begged.

“Okay, but I will kill whoever did it to you,” he promised.

Tallia believed Teegan, he appeared dead serious even though they were having sex.”It’s fine,” she mumbled. “It was a university party. I was too drunk and fell asleep and he was there sometime. When I woke up he was gone and I hurt,” Tallia admitted anxious for Teegan to continue loving her.

“Are you okay, are . . .”

“Please don’t, don’t stop. Please I need you.”

Teegan nodded, understanding. “You’ve got me,” he replied.He guided himself to her entrance and gently pushed inside.

“Okay?”

“Good, more.” Tallia said gripping his sides until Teegan was completely inside her. It stung and hurt but it was also the best feeling she could imagine when he began to move. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he whispered dirty things in her ear, all the things he wanted to do to her.

She felt his rhythm increase and her own body released again, more powerfully this time. She felt the final pushes of him in her body as he came. Teegan breathed heavily, holding Tallia and kissing her forehead.

Then, Tallia was crying, amazed tears were falling down her face. But Teegan gently hushed her and kissed her tears. It was hard for her to believe Teegan could ever be an evil monster. Tallia needed to know more about his past, when he was ready to tell her; she hoped it was soon.

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Ghazal, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, OctPoWriMo, Poetry, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

#OctPoWriMo – Day 27 – Ghazal – “Scent Divine” #amwriting #poetry 


Day 27 Prompt: Favorite Scent

“Fragrance is a powerful thing. It can bring you back to your favorite meal your mother used to make, to your first kiss, to any number of events in your life. Free write for 10 minutes and see where your nose leads you, if your words need some encouragement, walk outside, down the street, through a mall, through a forest until your nose reminds you and the words begin to flow.” 
——–

http://www.kesuada.com

——-

Scent of cinnamon, apple pie freshly made, divine,

Fresh bread, spice cookies, shortbread, chocolate craved divine

——

Easter ham glazed with pineapple rings, smoked, homemade.

Perogies, bacon, onion, soft sating divine

——

Walking outside after it rains, pine scent invades

Deep breath, acrid wonderful smell nature divine

——-

Puppies and kitties, newborn babes, a scent persudes

Love, care for, feed and adore, keep safe those divine. 

——–

Incense in churches, candles burning, chants disuade

Wine strong, broken bread, prayers with coffee wake the divine

———

Ghazal: 

“A Ghazal is a poem that is made up like an odd numbered chain of couplets, where each couplet is an independent poem. It should be natural to put a comma at the end of the first line. The Ghazal has a refrain of one to three words that repeat, and an inline rhyme that preceedes the refrain. Lines 1 and 2, then every second line, has this refrain and inline rhyme, and the last couplet should refer to the authors pen-name… The rhyming scheme is AA bA cA dA eA etc.”

Please see Shadow Poetry for further information 

——-

©Mandibelle16.(2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Fiction, My Thoughts, Relationship, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Works Published, Writing

Fiction: It Began In An Elevator #fiction #amwriting #elevators 


http://www.mademen.com

———–

It began in an elevator. One of those unexpected moments which occur in life. You were gazing at me and I looked up at you transfixed; there was a sparkle in your blue eyes. 
As the elevator went higher, the people emptied out onto their respective floors. Eventually, we were alone. 

I felt my breathing quicken and could hear your breath speed up beside me. I listened to you breath, in and out, desire for you rushing through my veins. 

There had been a meter between us in the elevator, now you somehow were right beside me. I could smell your cologne: ocean, vanilla, and a note of something sweet. 

I felt your eyes peering down at me, inspecting me from head to toe. The mirrors around the elevator reflected my image: Shiny black booties, polk-a-dot hose, a black A-line skirt, and a hot-pink sleeveless blouse. Makeup lightly done, eyes bare except for mascara and black eyeliner, and pink lipstick. My light blond hair was braided, stray hairs framing my face.

You saw me, catching you giving me the once over and you smiled genuinly, daring me to look you over. My eyes discovered your form: tall, and lithely muscled, wearing a navy pin-stripped suit, grey dress shirt, and a grey-blue tie. The tie matched your blue eyes exactly and your face was freshly shaved with a defined jaw; your brown hair curled slightly at your collar.

I blushed, staring at my booties, comparing them to your designer shoes. It felt as if the  elevator wasn’t moving at all, or maybe time was standing still.

 “You look pretty,” you told me. Your voice deep and a bit husky. “I like your perfume, it’s floral but not overwhelming; it smells delicious.” You gave me a devasting smile and I nearly swooned.

Instead, I gathered my wits and smiled back at you, blushing again.”I like your navy suit,” I stammered. “The blue, blue of the tie and the navy of the suit, it matches your eyes. And your cologne, it smells wonderful.” 

I couldn’t believe what I said. I saw you grinning at me from the corner of my eye as I stared shyly down at my boots.  It wasn’t normal for me to be so nervous, my heart beat so furiously. 

You tipped my chin up to better look me in the eye.

“The elevator.It’s not moving,” I said.

You chuckled, “I made it stop. If only for a moment or two.”

“Why?” 

But then, your lips touched mine. Soft and questing at first. Gently, coaxing my month open, until your tongue danced inside. Rubbing and sucking on my tongue, causing me to sigh and fall against you.

I returned your kiss grabbing the lapels of your jacket, kissing you harder, wanting more of you, of your magic taste, your delicious mouth all over my skin. Your arms came around my body, holding me close.

Suddenly, the elevator started moving up again. We both pulled back from each other panting. 

“Why did it start again?” I asked. 

You gazed at me with your intense blue eyes, still gathering yourself.  “I’m not sure. You have to have high-clearance to make the elevator start and stop. I didn’t make the elevator move again. Believe me!” 

Before we could say more, a beautiful woman with dark hair, walked into the elevator on the twenty-sixth floor. The woman smiled at as both, not oblivious to what had gone on between us minutes before.

“You have lipstick on your face, darling,” she said to you. Your face went pale and you tried to speak but the woman only laughed at you.”Don’t say a thing, you do this all time. But I’m your wife and I know, you’ll always come back to me.” 

Your wife exited at the top most floor and you gave me a longing gaze, whispering: “I’m sorry.” In only a few minutes, you broke my heart.  

——-

What is it about elevators? I wondered later. My recent experience with you made me think of many TV shows and movies, where elevators have great symbolic and/or metaphorical value.
Elevators are the place for the beginnings of trysts and romances, as I had hoped today would be. They are the places stopped for people to reveal truths and secrets. They are a place where the everyday manners and values are quickly forgotten. Elevators can even be symbolic of life and death.

Today, I felt cheated. I thought the elevator was our beginning. In reality, I had been caught in the middle of some rotting relationship. You were extremely deceitful and right now, I can’t forgive you for what you did. Your lies have killed my attraction to you.

 So much so, on Monday when I see you get in an elevator, I will wait for the next elevator going up to arrive. I know you’ll notice, it’s exactly what I hope. 

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Fiction, Flash Fiction, My Thoughts, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Writing

Sunday Photo Fiction: The Elven Healer


Thank you to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF.

——

A Mixed Bag

——–

Their enemies were close, Kaleen could smell them. They reeked of blood and the putrid stench of those who had not bathed; the gremlin’s mission was death to all elves.

Kaleen knew the elves were strong. Hardened warriors, both men and women. Kaleen was a significant force in the war because she had healing magic; few elves possessed healing powers.

Though many elven warriors lay at death doors, Kaleen held her hands tight against their wounds, chanting magic incantations her Grandmother once taught her, and healing them. Kaleen also knew which plants would aid her own healing.

At the moment, she was trying to escape the gremlins with a young dying healer named Liam. The enemy had snuck up on Liam as he slept. Kaleen had half-carried him to a part of the woods where the aloe vera plants thrived. 

Kaleen cut a leaf of an aloe vera plant, allowing its juice to drip into Liam’s deep wound. She chanted using every bit of her magic. Later, she awoke, thinking, she must have passed-out. Healing a healer was difficult and used a great amount of energy. 

She was caught of guard as she arose. Liam was gone and two gremlins sneered, glaring at Kaleen. She drew her enchanted sword, releasing fire globes from her free hand, powerful magic not to heal, but to kill.

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Lune - 5,3,5 or 5 words, 3 words, 5 words, Poetry, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Word High July, Writing

Poem: Lune (5,3,5) – ” Butterflies Don’t Pass” #wordhighjuly


Day 1: July 1 ( Canada Day.)

——-


———

http://www.pinterest.com

——–

Your thoughts are distinctive, 

Eyes crystal blue, 

Noticing everything and seeing truth.

——–

Your words are ambrosia sweet, 

Delight to taste, 

Chocolate brownies bite by bite.

——

Scent of Jasmine on your, 

T-shirt I keep,

Smell of wood, of earth.

——-

Strong built muscles lift close, 

Skin delicate and, 

Smooth meeting skin of yours.

——

Through the senses we absorb,

Each other and, 

Kiling assaults me, tiny terror.

——

Years pass, the butterflies don’t, 

I hold our, 

Love; nurture, its growth flourishes.

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved

My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Three Line Tales, Writing

3Line Tales:  Dogs and Death Flowers.


Thank you to Sonya from 100 Words or Less for hosting this week’s prompt.

Kazuend

—–

 1. My dog used to burry her nose in flowers, when she walked outside in Spring and Summer; it was the loveliest moment to witness her absorbing the scent of flowers with her sharp sense of smell; the flowers must have smelled pleasing to her, a fragerent blossom she adored, because the dog would leave her nose buried in the flowers for longer then was necessary to simply check-out a smell; she loved how flowers smelt.

——-

2. A unique talent this dog had was helping me choose the perfect perfume; whenever I received a new magazine in the mail, I would open the flap of the perfumed pages and hold them out for her to smell one page at a time; it got to the point where the dog would expect to do this every time a new fashion magazine came; she could tell if the magazine was one for her to smell and decide if a perfume smelt heavenly, disgusting, or somewhere inbetween; if she liked the scent she would sniff the page, smelling the scent for a while before walking away; if the scent was bad she would smell the page and sneeze a few times right away; and if the scent was only okay, she would smell it, wait a while and then sneeze once; true enough, the scents she sneezed at were never scents I purchased or liked.

——–

3. I’m not sure what kind of flowers these are, they are beautiful and ugly; they speak of springs presence, of hope, and renewal, but I’ve always had this issue with little white flowers, inherited from my Mother; flowers that remind me carnationd, which are small are similar to these flowers pictured, remind me of death; Grandpa Wilson had them on his casket when I was eight-years-old and when my Dad would bring these flowers home for my Mom, she’d sigh and say, “death flowers;” years later, Dad took the hint and now he brings Mom roses on special occasions.

——

©Mandibelle16.(2016) All Rights Reserved.

Books, Fiction, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Writing

Three Line Tales: Overwhelmed, Not Making a Dent, Engrossed Reading.


Glen Noble

——-
1. I’m surrounded by a gazillion books and where to start I don’t know because the truth is this bookstore is what the inside of my IBooks Library on my tablet looks like, it’s only that I don’t have to see all the books surrounding me and become claustrophobic, trapped by books stacked on and over other books; I don’t have to worry about being crushed by an unsteady pile of books with my tablet; I’ve found how books are such a freeing pastime; but in here, reading can also make you overwhelmed and panicked because even picking up one book you still have thousands to go in this bookstore.

2. It drives me insane how one book didn’t make a dent in these books packed densely in the book shop — and even after I read ten books, it wasn’t enough to make it look as if I’d accomplished reading much of anything at all; I should mention it’s not my goal to read everyone of these damn books, only the good ones but why you would mix up good books with books that were inconsequential and terrible I’m still trying to figure out because your bookstore is wasting my time; I could be reading  books that make me relax or cause me to think about the greater picture of life.

3. I fell asleep an exciting book in my hand. I don’t remember how far I got in this book but you locked up the store and I lay on a comfy chair for reading and I couldn’t stop reading because the ideas of colourful and amazing prose, kept taking me away in journeys inside these books and as soon as one ended I was driven to read it’s sequel or another book by that writer; the smell of old books is truly unique, something future generations will miss; but right now I’m engulfed by that slightly musty scent of old books and it is delicious and peaceful as I read until sunrise.

Thank you to Sonya for hosting 3Line challenge.

—-

©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.

Daily Prompt, My Thoughts, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Writing

Raining on a Sunday


Prompt: What is your perfect rainy day?

I hope that’s what the prompt was. I accidentally deleted that email and can’t find it in the trash. 

Rainy days are wonderful. I love it especially when you can smell the outdoors after it rains. The scent of the acrid earth and that particular smell that rain has against fragrent grass and the wild scent of the sky and fiolage. I enjoy walking on days as this, it’s like the outside world has been born anew and everything is fresh. 

Watching a dog face the rain is an interesting pursuit. At first, many dogs are too afraid to go outside because God forbid they should have something falling on them and making them wet. But once they go outside after the rain stops much discovery is found and I think that the rain which is so fragrent to us is three times as fragrent to a dog with their superior sense of smell. I didn’t like how dirty my dog got going out in the damp outdoors but I could appreciate how much she loved it.

One of my best memories of the rain was when I was twelve-years-old and it was lunchtime recess. We were standing outside and it began to pour hard. But we were kids and this was a glorious and great event for us as the rain was warm and soaked us right through our clothes. We stood in the school yard with are hands spread out, are heads held back, feeling the rain soak into our skin and drop off our eyelashes. When we came inside it was cold and uncomfortable being wet, but it was worth it. That same week it continued to rain and the rain pooled on the field. We all brought extra clothes because at lunchtime we played soccer in the pools of water. Everytime someone kicked the ball we got wet. I unfortunately slipped and fell right on my back. Even my hair was wet.

But these days, I think of a Keith Urban song called “Raining on a Sunday” and the lyrics inspire me:

Pray that it’s raining on Sunday

Stormin’ like crazy

We’ll hide under the covers all afternoon

Baby whatever comes Monday

Can take care of itself

‘Cause we got better things that we could do

When it’s raining on Sunday

Staying in bed all day when it’s raining that seems good to me!