Children/YA/Family, Current Events, Flash Fiction, Memories/Childhood, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Relationship, Writing, Writing Challenges

Saturday Mix Flash Fiction: Someday Love #amwriting #flashfiction #nonfiction 


Thanks to Lorraine from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s prompt on love

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Love is all you need? Whoever said that perhaps was in the first stages of love.They hadn’t seen the nitty gritty yet, what separates those we love and those who truly love us from those who are but memories or experiences in our lives. To be honest with you, I’ve realized what I’ve felt of being ‘in’ love was so short it was hardly there. But I know what it was because I know what love’s not. It hurts thinking back to that time even though it was barely real. 

I was also with a guy much longer and the love I tried to convince myself I felt, didn’t exist. In a sense I’m glad it wasn’t authentic because love is painful. It doesn’t mean because you’re in love with someone everything’s suddenly perfect. Love in relationships is a ton of work combined with trust which takes time to build. It’s a given your other half will do stupid and thoughtless things at times and so will you. Whatever the relationship, we’re all human and make mistakes and sometimes those mistakes are huge and hurtful. 

But in the spaces in-between are these perfect moments of sometimes physical but always heartfelt gestures of love, fleeting but memorable; these are the moments lovers live for. Love is being unselfish and it’s difficult for any human to consider someone else before themselves all the time. It would seem to me we need so much more than only love. But I know lasting love is possible because I know my Lord who says: “We love, because her first loved us.” With those words in my life, I feel this whole ‘true love’ thing might be a possibility someday. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Children/YA/Family, Fiction, Memories/Childhood, My Thoughts, Nature, Writing, Writing Challenges

Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner: Grandpa’s Fish Pond #amwriting #flashfiction #fiction 


Thanks too Roger Shipp for hosting FFftPP.

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Credit: Sora Sangano – http://www.unsplash.com

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Phallon watched the fish swim in the pond his Grandpa had installed in his backyard. He enjoyed visiting his Grandpa each Saturday. Grandpa had put the pond in because young Phallon loved the fish so much as a toddler; ‘fishes’ had been his first word. 

Now he sat with Grandpa who asked him about school and of course the girls in his school. Uncomfortable, Phallon wished Grandpa didn’t ask him about that. 

Grandpa simply laughed,”Phallon, I’m only teasing you. It’s good you have friends who are girls and that there are girls you like. This Jennifer, have you asked her out?”

Phallon’s face turned red, “Yeah we’ve gone to a movie together and bowling. I want her to be my girlfriend but her parents say she’s too young to have a boyfriend.” 

Grandpa nodded a smile on his face, “You’ll find the right one when you’re older. When I saw your Grandma the first time, my heart lept out of my chest. I wonder if I will ever meet that right girl of yours and see you marry her?” 

Phallon felt uncomfortable again, “Why wouldn’t you be there Grandpa? You’re only eighty-one?” 

Grandpa patted Phallon’s hand then squeezed it, “You know, my boy, I’ve been sick a long time. It’s a battle I’ve mostly conquered, but my strength is waning these days.When you get married someday, think of your old Grandpa, okay?” Phallon nodded feeling a lump in his throat.

Two-years later Grandpa succumbed. Phallon was sixteen and felt raw inside. He returned to the fish pond in Grandpa’s  back yard. He noticed the fishes were floating and the reality of life made tears wet his cheeks. In the mess of the last two weeks including Grandpa’s funeral, no one had remembered to feed the fish. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Haiku - 7,7,5, Poetry, Writing

Writing 101 – Beloved – ” Beloved” 


You know the name, Amanda?

It means Beloved.

A coincidence, I think.

Maybe my parents named me, 

Because they also loved.

I don’t want to think about it.

But the issue that scares me about–

My Mom and Dad is,

They don’t talk often to each other.

I read an old journal, my Moms,

She called my Dad Beloved.

Now my Dad does what he wants.

And my Mom does her thing too.

He is always hard to buy–

Any kind of present for, anything.

And I don’t understand a marriage

That appears so seperate, 

But has lasted thirty years and 

Then some, I watch and–

I see little things, my Dad caring for

My Mom when she’s ill.

But he went downstairs and napped. 

They stake out places in the house 

Some are her places and 

Many places are left to him and some —

Are the little spaces I take up.

It’s weird being thirty at home and thinking.

You have connections to these people;

But you don’t see them.

They are not a them, they are–

Two seperate beings who came

Together to be,

A whole, two halves of one being,

I wonder at this because I wonder for me,

Can I live Beloved . 

A whole who is part of another.

Or will I be like my parents 

Who somehow work and, 

Remain to each other Beloved. 

Despite their difficulties,

They are still together.

But that happy feeling love hides, 

I live in a dream world I see;

There are few good guys.

I loved once it broke and shattered. 

Now I lay in my bed at night.

Thinking of someone new.

A distant man who’ll call me,

His own in our life, I’ll be,

His Beloved girl. 

Who named me Beloved?

I don’t see why you called me her.

When I could be any —

One without this painful name. 

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©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.