dVerse, Flash Fiction, Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer, My Thoughts, Nature, Photography/Visual Art, Poetry, Quadrille - 44 Words, Religion/Morality, Writing, Writing Challenges

Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: Poem – Quadrille – “Winged Hope” #amwriting #poetry #dVerse #flashfiction


Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW August 29, 2017. Also, thanks to Paul Scribbles of #dVerse Poet’s Pub for hosting a poetry prompt on magic

——–

Credit: Jade M. Wong – FFftAW

——–

Art bleeds, 

Nobody’s seen before —

Winged ring,

Mortally wounded.  

Some kids arrows —

Embedded. 

Forever trickling,  

Whenever someone’s — 

Dying. 

Knives, gunshots wounds. 

Whether they’re sick —

On pain medication. 

Or dead in sleep.

Winged circle bleeds, 

For generations. 

Weeping blood,

For death is —

Constant. 

Yet in darkness, 

Gleams old magic, 

Hope’s recourse, 

Heals. 

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Current Events, Event, Fiction, History, MindLoveMisery's Menagerie, My Thoughts, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Tale Weavers Fiction/Poetry, Writing, Writing Challenges

Tale Weavers: Fiction – The Eyes of What Now? #taleweavers #amwriting #fiction #IdesofMarch 


Thanks to Lorraine from MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting last week’s Tale Weavers. The theme is the a tale on the lighter side of things.

——-

Credit: Gary Larson

——-

Steve walked into English 311 wearing a toga and a gold spray-painted crown of leaves.

Dr. Lawerence, their English Professor, laughed at the front of the room along with some of the other students.

“Why is what Steve wearing funny?” Ambrose asked Jen, “Its not like this is some party.”

“I think it might have something to do with Julius Caesar. What about you?” Jen said dryly.

“The play we’re studying?” Ambrose’s asked. His friend, sitting behind him tittered. “Shut up, Dan,” he said.

Dan kept laughing, “How can you be reading Julius Caesar in English 311 and not understand why Steve is wearing that getup?”

Dr. Lawerence overheard his student’s conversation. He chuckled, ” ‘Beware the Ides of March,’ Ambrose. Remember what I said in Monday’s class?”

Ambrose shook his head, “Eyes of what now?”

The student’s around Ambrose and their professor laughed. Jen sighed. ” Caesar was assassinated on the ‘Ides of March.’ The seer in the play told him to ‘beware’ of it, but he was still stabbed and killed.”

“I thought Brutus murdered Caesar? Now you’re saying a seer did?”

Dr. Lawerence peered at Ambrose concerned, “Are you sure you want to major in English Literature, Ambrose?”

He looked up and shrugged. The professor sighed and returned to the front of the room. There was always one in every class.

——–

©Mandibelle16.(2017) All Rights Reserved.

Free Verse, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Poetry, Religion/Morality, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Writing

Poem: Free Verse –  “Words Which Can’t Be Snatched” #amwriting #poetry #badday


http://www.publicdomainpictures.net

———–

The walls close in, I cannot breath.
Sitting inhaling between my legs, 

My breathe is short, my throat constricted.

I will not play the victim, 

Though anxiety and stress, 

Isn’t something I handle well because —

A sickness lives and hurts me. 

It’s not clear to everyone, 

You can appear and sound well, 

Yet, be caught in the Guinea Pig’s wheel, 

Some kind of rotating Hell. 

Release me from prison, I’m praying for help, 

My God, my God, I feel alone. 

A need to get this pain off of my chest, 

I can’t breathe, feel asphyxiated. 

Such tears redden my eyes, blank and bloodshot;

A blue so grey, it’s the eye of the suffocating storm. 

You think it’s safe, but a dark madness comes fast, 

Shaking you off your feet.

Turning you to mush, dust, particles of air.

Aren’t we all atoms, building cells — at a smaller level? 

What makes it so such atoms making cells form a being, 

A pin cushion to be stabbed? 

While cells of blood splash unto the floor.

Forsake me not, 

Terrible days come out of nowhere. 

I cannot think, I have no words.

Head pounding, a drums beat, 

I think I might throw-up. 

Careless words written, make me ill,

Shake my foundation, 

Take away my control.

You have no clue how I feel. 

After all these years, you believe you’ve solved me?  

You’ve only picked a lock, in a chain of locks locked.

But you hurt with your writing — why didn’t you ask? 

You’re shaking my world, I have no strength, 

I’m not in the place you think I am. 

You rock my foundations, I’m not doing well. 

Answer me this, how could you think

Fatigue such as mine goes away, by blinking? 

You haven’t solved the riddle, 

You cause me great problems.

And a horrible day doesn’t end, 

Tone of voice, sets off tears again.

You don’t treat me like an adult, only a child —

Because I’m forever screwing up.

I want out but, how do I escape? 

For I find I’ve built, my own prison. 

And you tighten the chains, 

Until breath and blood flow flicker out, 

Until everything which matters blows apart.

Until in the sky, floats clouds, sunbeams radiant, 

And the Eagles take me flying on their backs.

And I escape to poetry, 

Such words which can’t be snatched. 

—–

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved

Etheree - 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10 syllable count, My Thoughts, Nonfiction, Poetry, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Writing

Writing 101: Poem – Etherees – “The Mark” #everydayinspiration


Today’s prompt is to use a quote to begin our writing.

———

The battle of life is, in most cases, fought uphill; and to win it without a struggle were perhaps to win it without honor. If there were no difficulties there would be no success; if there were nothing to struggle for, there would be nothing to be achieved.  – Samual Smiles

———

Such goals we have to not miss the giant mark, 

To accomplish though we faulter and–

Find ourselves falling of the mark short.

My gaze has set upon the hill,

My determination —

Evident and, 

Perspiration,

Relevant.

Crying, 

March.

—-

I,

Will not —

Let failure,

Tarnish my–

Intent to triumph,

Strength, running through my bones,

Sweat upon my brow and I, 

Reach for that set goal growing still,

Never going to give, can’t alleviate —

The pain I meet, my struggle with heart.

—–

There is no distance I won’t go, no path–

My sword won’t clear the way, lashing through,

Knowing my own virtue isn’t,

Worth a mercenary,

Heart of one who cannot,

Taste the wine which is,

His life’s blood met, 

Breaking bread and,

Fighting on,

Life is, 

Tough.

—-

Goal, 

In my, 

Grasp I, 

Keep winning,

There is no place to —

Wander of path I’m kept, 

Focused on the prize before —

I am confused by life’s debris,

Keep up the challenge, the struggle,

Never fear, blessed angels fight with you to end.

—–

No weakness in my lungs, battle cries are —

Rung; an invading army charges through,

Not pierced by arrows or swords of,

Finest sharpest metals mixed,

Alloys fit to strike wrath,

Life is a fight won, 

It’s hard to breathe.

Even stabbed we,

Triumph.

At last, 

Rest.

——

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rughts Reserved.

Fiction, Flash Fiction, May Day Prompts, My Thoughts, Religion/Morality, Short Stories And Serial Stories, Writing

Maydays: Fiction- Remorseless #Maydays



——

Thanks to K.L. Caley for hosting #Maydays. Today’s prompt is something evil.

——

Brittany Evans was a seasoned District Attorney. She had slaved many hours convicting Jay Brighten of a slew of connected murders. Today, the last victim Vicky Bernhardt would receive justice.

Brighten had viciously killed and dismembered the corpses of young women all over the US. Having finally been caught three-years ago, he was still not remorseful.

As Brittany faced him on the witness stand, his chilling gaze made her want to run.The hollowness of Brighten’s black gaze made Brittany feel as she had every time he was on the witness stand; as if she were staring into the pits of Hell.

“Mr. Brighten,” Brittany said quivering inside, “Did you or did you not kill Vicky  Bernhardt, stabbing her an excessive amount of times?”

“Yes, I killed her. I stabbed her seventy-six times to be exact.” Brighten said matter-of-factly.

Brittany was taken aback as usual. Brighten was always frighteningly honest with his answers to her questions. “You were counting how many times you stabbed Vicky?”

“Yes, I counted every single time I stabbed Vicky. I counted for every woman I killed.”

“Why did you stab Vicky and stab all those women, many times?”

Brighten appeared bored as he regarded Brittany.”They were sluts. I don’t care about whores. If they wanted to remain alive they should have made better life choices. Vicky was another whore who needed killing.”

“You believe Vicky needed killing, Mr. Brighten?” Britanny asked scared of what she would hear. Whatever his answer, his words always chilled her to the bone.

“Of course she needed killing. Vicky deserved it. Every one of those sluts I stabbed deserved it. They’re adulterous whores breaking the Ten Commandments. I was doing what had to be done. It’s what God would’ve wanted.”

Brighten sighed as if Britanny was wasting his time. He felt no remorse for his actions it was clear.

“Why did you dismember the dead women? Vicky most significantly?” Brittany asked firmly.

“Same reason. Whores don’t deserve proper burial. Their bodies are already desecrated, so I cut them up like the animals they were.”

The entire courtroom seemed to gasp appalled. Brittany, a trained attorney, felt sick. But then, facing Brighten on the witness stand as she had done numerous times, always made her stomach knot.

“Vicky and those other women you killed weren’t ladies of the night, they weren’t working the streets looking to have sex with men for money Mr. Brighten. Vicky was a university student with a high GPA. She played Tennis. Her boyfriends name was Tom. By all accounts, she was a faithful girlfriend. In fact, all the women you’ve killed have been young professionals or university students with full and happy lives. They were faithful to their partners. What do to say now, Mr. Brighten?”

Brighten had the audacity to roll his eyes. The Judge frowned at him darkly.

“They weren’t married to their boyfriends. They were sluts.That’s why Vicky was a whore and all the rest of those women.”

Brittany couldn’t believe what she was hearing again. Brighten always gave the same horrifying answers.

“Those were real relationships. Many of the girls you killed were engaged. They weren’t sleeping around with multiple partners. They were faithful to their one boyfriend or fiance. They weren’t trading sex for accommodations, food, or clothing. Vicky and every single woman you killed had a job and many were working towards a better one attending school. I don’t understand? Why were Vicky and all these women whores as you say?”

Brighten laughed. “You don’t get it because you’re one.”

“Excuse me?” Brittany said angrily. The Judge called for order in the court.

“They weren’t married,” Brighten emphasized each word. “They’re whores because they were not married to their boyfriends. They didn’t stay virgins until marriage.”

“I’ve read about you and your long-term boyfriend.” Brighten added. “Been together ten-years. You’re a whore. I should’ve killed you too. I should have been less discriminating and killed every woman I could. At least the virgins would go to heaven.”

Brittany was shocked. Her courtroom facade had gone pale. Quickly, she collected herself staring in Brighten’s demonic eyes. She felt as if they were eating her soul, each time she heard him answer a question.

“You’ve been found guilty of sixteen young women’s death for first degree murder along with several other crimes. You pleaded guilty for all of them. You pled guilty to murdering Vicky, the last woman you killed before the police arrested you.” Britanny said with hidden rage in her voice.

“Don’t you care you broke the Ten Commandment: ‘Thou Shall Not Kill?’ Don’t you think when they kill you on death row, God isn’t going to be there on the other side welcoming you to heaven for killing innocent women such as Vicky because you too broke a commandment? By your logic it’s what follows.”

Brighten laughed and laughed. “None of those women are innocent. God will be pleased with me, even though I broke a commandment.”

“So you’re allowed a pass but Vicky and the other women weren’t?”

Brighten smirked not answering the question.

“Answer the question Mr. Brighten,”the Judge ordered.

Brighten laughed maniacally and Brittany felt as if she was going to throw up.

—–

It was years later, but Brighten’s laugh still haunted Brittany’s nightmares. Her dreams terrified her even as she watched Jay Brighten’s execution.

He never showed any remorse or any guilt. Such as many death row prisoners had, Brighten had no religious epiphanies. Brighten still believed he had every right to kill all those women ten-years later when he was finally executed.

Was he going to be shocked after he died.

——

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

My Thoughts, Novel - First Draft -"How Was Last Night For You.", Short Stories And Serial Stories, Writing

10. How Was Last Night For You – Waking Up and John’s Nightmare


 

Read Chapter 9 here.

Chapter 10: Waking Up at John’s House and The Nightmare

Nina awoke from a deep sleep. She was incredibly comfortable and spread out across the bed.  She didn’t think she’d moved at all after she’d showered and gone to sleep. Remembering she was sleeping with John, Nina grinned and turned to look at him.

John appeared young and carefree as he slept.The slight laugh lines around his eyes weren’t as deep and the dark circles beneath his eyes were gone. His skin was smooth except where there was stubble. Nina had never seen John with a five o’clock shadow. Nina knew John kept up a pristine appearance for work and to look as if he had his life together. Sometimes clothes and other people’s perceptions of John’s careful grooming helped to keep people from finding out why certain events happened when John was in the vicinity.

Nina reached tentatively for John’s face and she stroked his whiskered cheek. She yawned and fell back on her pillows deciding she needed more sleep. Nina drifted and soon surrendered to her dreams.

—–

The sun was in John’s eyes. It was annoying. He always kept the roman shade closed in his bedroom. The housekeeper must have put the blind up. Life left John with little but fires he had to keep putting out so he needed all the sleep he could get.

John felt Nina before he dreamed about her. The sensation of her hand stroking his stubbled cheek. He was afraid for her and thought he should tell her to go home before she ended up in the hospital; but to do that felt like an even worse idea.

Nina’s touch was special. John could feel the magnetic pull they felt with each other. His Nina. He dreamed of her soft long blond hair and cherub pink lips. He dreamed of her beautiful curves, her hips, her stomach, her breasts, and it made him want her. John dreamt Nina and he were sitting out in front of his house on the beach, sitting in anorak chairs.

The tide from the lake went in and out on the shore and was a soothing rhythm as he held Nina’s hand and stroked it. He wasn’t worried, he wasn’t afraid. Nothing problematic was going to happen. He enjoyed serenity for seconds.

Then the sky grew dark and the thunder clouds rolled in. Nina was begging him not to go into Sirene Lake. John kept telling her he had to go. And it was if his worst fears had come to life when Tia emerged from the water — gorgeous but deadly. A sea witch in a dress of blue and green scales. She had a dagger in her hand and she came close to his face brushing his cheek with hers and whispered: ‘your heart for hers.’

Tia was looking at Nina and telling him to choose. John wanted to save Nina. He chose her, but Tia only laughed and dragged John into the water. When she could swim with her mermaid’s tale, Tia drove the dagger through John’s heart. He could feel the pain so acute and agonizing.

John could hear Nina crying, wadding into Sirene Lake after him. And Tia was laughing malevolently and swimming further into the lake with John’s bleeding body where no one would see him again. Nina followed Tia and John. He realized Tia was leading Nina into deeper waters, where Nina could not swim. She was to die as well. John felt a pain stronger than Tia’s dagger to his heart, a searing pain that wouldn’t end. John blacked out.


John awoke from his nightmare in a cold sweat. He felt his heart beat rapidly where he was sure he had been stabbed or was having some kind of heart episode. But John’s heartbeat slowed and all he could feel with his hand was his bare chest, no bloody wound. John breathed deeply, realizing he had been holding his breath as he dreamt Tia had pulled him into the lake to drown him as he died from a stab wound. She had been attempting to drown Nina too. It took John a few minutes to realize he had only been experiencing a horrific nightmare.

John looked beside him and saw Nina was stretched across three-quarters of his king sized bed. He had been huddled in the last quarter of the bed she had left him. John thought he should be annoyed by Nina hogging his bed but he wasn’t. Nina was too cute to annoy him right now.

She looked peaceful as she slept. He knew Nina was about twenty-nine or thirty but she looked twenty-three with her face bare of makeup and her beautiful hair tangled about her head. Nina’s body was warm where it touched his. John sidled closer to Nina and stroked her pale hair away from her face. He kept stroking her cheek as he kissed her closed lips gently. He kissed her eyelids and the corner of her lips. John kissed her cheeks and began to trail wet kisses down her neck. He reached for the blue dress shirt of his Nina slept in, and began to unbutton the shirt.

Nina sighed in her sleep and her eyes flew open when he gently bit the place her shoulder and neck met. She opened her grey-blue eyes and smiled at him sleepily.

“Good morning.” John said “Funny I should find you in my bed. I think I’ll have to do something about that.”

Nina giggled and stretched her arms above her head. ” Way to take advantage of a poor defenceless woman. I wasn’t sure you’d take the bate,” Nina murmured. Her morning voice was croaky.

“How could I resist,” John mumbled kissing Nina where buttons had once covered her skin.He kissed Nina’s heart thinking back to his nightmare which he remembered so vividly:  ‘Your heart or hers.’ Tia had said.

John had an inkling Tia might be making him a visit in person sooner or later. Such as he felt a terrible event which was going to occur around him, John felt sure Tia was coming to check up on him as she had threatened years ago. She’d be watching John, Tia had said. Last night if he was honest, he could have sworn he saw her a couple times at the fundraiser. He thought he was seeing things. Had Tia finally returned? He felt a pang of sorrow for the love he once felt for Tia. But after all she had put John through, all the suffering and broken relationships, he felt little but anger and bitterness towards Tia now. If she was here again it would be because of Nina, and Nina he was sure he could protect.

“John,” Nina asked him sitting up, “are you okay?”

“Fine. Great,” John said realizing he had stopped kissing Nina abruptly and was looking through her. He smiled at her rubbed her cheek. The situation needed to be remedied. He forgot about Tia for the moment. John’s life was full of Nina for the present. A spark was growing within him for her, a spark no past love could compare with. Whether John’s dream was a warning or not, he would protect Nina. He would keep her safe. Nina and John had only known each other over a week and he cared for her so much already. For now he would show her how he felt giving praise to her body and through it, her heart.


 

Nina sat on a barstool in John’s kitchen. She was eating scrambled eggs, breakfast sausage, and hash browns. She knew she was going to pay for all the calories she’d been ingesting this weekend when she went to the gym next week. Tiredly, she regretted she’d have to increase her cardio.

John and Nina hadn’t returned to John’s house until 2:00 am in the morning. At 4:00 am they’d showered and went to bed. As she ate breakfast in the afternoon, Nina went over the night’s events. The biggest aspects being meeting the strange young woman named Talise who said she had been a woman John had thrown away. Talise’s friend had loved John and John had forgot about her as well. Nina also thought about the fire. The smoke and fire damage which occurred to the beautiful venue the fundraiser had been held in and potential fatalities which might have occurred.

John sat on the stool beside Nina wearing sweatpants and nothing more. He devoured his breakfast while reading the Adare Gazette. He looked up at Nina now and then with a contented look on his face before reading the paper again. Nina spied a small story in the gazette about the fire at the Country club. She noticed John skipped over it with his eyes and pulled out the sports section.

” Edmonton won last night.” John muttered. “I’m kind of shocked. They’ve been winning quite a bit lately. I wonder if they’ll be playoff contenders.”

” Of course they will.” Nina chirped, “McDavid’s back.” John chuckled.

“Anything you want to do today Nina,” John asked.

“Well it would be fun to veg but I had planned on trying to go to the Farmer’s market downtown before it closes at 4:00 pm. It’s Winter so it’s inside this huge building and not outside, but it’s still pretty good. It’s 2 pm we could still make it .”

“Alright, I suppose that will be fun.” John said.  She could tell John wasn’t much thrilled by the idea of going to the Farmer’s Market but Nina wanted to do coupley things with John and get to know him better, even if he didn’t always like what they were doing. Nina laid her head against John’s shoulder. She had finished eating and was content.

“You’ll like it. Fresh food. I will cook you a great supper,” Nina reassured John.

He smiled, “Okay deal.” But Nina could tell something was bothering John and he wasn’t saying what it was. As he had been when they were kissing in bed, John was distracted. Nina wished she knew by what.

Please Read Chapter 11 here.


 

©Mandibelle16.(2016) All Rights Reserved.