#November Notes Day 20/ Sunday Photo Fiction: A Wreck of A Marriage #flashfiction #amwriting #music


For November Notes Day 20 the prompt song is “Wreck of the Day” by Ana Nalick. I’m combining the prompt with Sunday Photo Fiction (SPF). Hosted by Alastair Forbes on November 26, 2017.


Credit: A Mixed Bag – Alastair Forbes


“Wreck of the Day” by Ana Nalick


Tessa had been in a bad mood all day and wished she hadn’t agreed to go sailing with Thomas. He had no idea that she had walked in on him in her own bedroom, not once three years ago, but many times since then — including yesterday.

Tessa had loved Thomas since she was thirteen and had never realized he was a serial-cheater until five-years into their marriage. Then, she’d discovered she couldn’t have children. Signs of Thomas’ frequent mistresses became glaringly apparent thereafter. Jewelry she never received, expensive shoes that weren’t her size, and pieces of expensive and foreign left in their bed.

Each time Tessa had seen him and another women, she stopped loving Thomas a little more. She’d been desperately close to the coffin of hope too many times. Every time she had walked in on him, she got in her BMW and drove as fast as she could away from the wreck of the day. She’d disappear and Thomas never asked where she’d gone.

When they arrived home to the comfort of their home after sailing, Tessa slammed the bedroom door on Thomas’ face.

“Sleep in another room.”

“Tessa, what’s wrong, love?”

She ignored his pleading tone. “Pack your stuff up when I’m at work, you’re moving out. We’re also getting a divorce. You’ve been cheating on me for years and I’ve walked in on you and various women, one too many times.”

Thomas stomped away and Tessa fell into bed. It was finally quiet in her head and her heart felt at peace for the first time in eight years.


“Driving away from the wreck of the day

And the light’s always red in the rear-view

Desperately close to a coffin of hope

I’d cheat destiny just to be near you

If this is giving up, then I’m giving up

If this is giving up, then I’m giving up, giving up

On love, On love

*****

Driving away from the wreck of the day

And I’m thinking ’bout calling on Jesus

‘Cause love doesn’t hurt so I know I’m not falling in love

I’m just falling to pieces

*****

And if this is giving up then I’m giving up

If this is giving up then I’m giving up, giving up

On love, On love

*****

And maybe I’m not up for being a victim of love

When all my resistance will never be distance enough

*****

Driving away from the wreck of the day

And it’s finally quiet in my head

Driving alone, finally on my way home to the comfort of my bed

And if this is giving up, then I’m giving up

If this is giving up, then I’m giving up, giving up

On love, On love.”

*****

— “Wreck of the Day”by Ana Nalick


©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

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Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer P2: The Liberty of Choice #amwriting #flashfiction #music 


Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW. If you didn’t already know this is a Part 2 to Part 1 (found here).

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Credit: Mike Vore

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Part 2:



When Evangeline left home, she didn’t take a cent of the money she had earned playing piano at concerts. 

To make a living she learned to play guitar and sing vocals with various bands at ‘hole in the wall’ clubs in L.A. What little money she had she used for voice lessons, rent, and food.  She increasingly wrote and sang her own songs. 

At twenty-four, Evangeline auditioned for the popular reality TV show, “The Voice.” From the beginning, her talent blew the judges away and she eventually won first place. She called home and invited her mom to come see her final performance for the show.

 When Evangeline sat down in front of the grand piano her hands shook above the piano keys. She hadn’t played a piano in three years beyond practising in private for the finale show. She surprised everyone with her skillful piano playing and successful rendition of Justin Timberlake’s “Sexy Back.” 

At the end of that night Evangeline hugged her mom. Every ounce of resentment and hate she felt for Ruth in the past had faded. She was also amused when she remembered the priceless expression on her mother’s face, hearing the lyrics to “Sexy Back.” 

She was also grateful Ruth had pushed her and provided Evangeline a background as a performer. It gave her an edge as she was now able to pursue her musical talents true to her own choices. 

—-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Day 10 – NaPoWriMo – Abecedarian – An Alphabetical Poem – “The Dance of Life”


Always walking in the shadows I see your every stance;

Because I can’t help but watch you, as you move I glance.

Conversely, you are watching me as I strike a pose lipstick in hand;

Dedicated to your mission of figuring out the dance I move.

Entrancing as it is to watch each other move, we are figuring out more;

Finding out the steps we move to each other’s waltz, while keeping up a tempo;

Guiding our feet along one another’s, you move, I move, this is the dance.

Holding hands, you gently lead and take your steps so carefully;

If I should ever step on your feet, God forgive me because we are waltzing for life.

Just because you should stop, I would always wait for you;

Killing all movement is not a reason for you to let go, I will find your pace.

Laughing, uproariously as we linger at the parts we get especially close;

Movement with you is always a good time, moving with you I am consumed.

Never have I felt so alive and full of vibrancy and color, we are vapour;

Only the fastest couple can catch us as we move to this lover’s tune.

People will try and emulate us but each couple moves all their own way;

Quickly, and quietly we move, no dance once danced, can ever be the same.

Rest is required when I am out of breath, you know me like a plant knows sunlight;

Safely, you guard me while we sleep, and dream of jazz and tap, a little R&B.

Together we incorporate the dances that go beyond the waltz, for life moves beyond what’s known; 

Understanding your footwork, I match my own footwork to it;

Various movements cause us to spin and sometimes I feel a tad dizzy;

Waking as we move, dancing makes me feel weightless at times.

Xylophone’s play a little beat as we begin to slow our pace;

Zany business is this dance called life, but I’d only dance it with you.