First Line Fridays: Heat Panic #FLF #fiction #amwriting


Thanks to Dylan of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting FLF.

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Credit:Thomas Shelberg via UnSplash

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Three hours into the desert [Sandra felt the jeep’s] engine choke and buckle, rolling dark smoke into the pale blue sky.

“Are you kidding me?” Sandra asked her husband Jim. “We’re going to the Grand Canyon something people do all the time from Vegas and the damn Barbie jeep breaks down? Don’t they maintain these things, check that they’re working before they leave us in the open desert?”

Jim gazed at his wife his eyes half closed. The temperature was a sizzling 45 degrees Celsius and growing up in Toronto’s cold winters meant he didn’t handle the heat well. Sandra’s harping made Jim feel that much worse, sweating prufesly in the leather seat beside her. 

“Jim, Jim? Are you even listening to me? How long is it going to take for them to send another jeep? Why is everyone else so mellow about this? It gets cold in the desert at night and what about the snakes and scorpions?”

Jim groaned out load and Sandra gave him a dirty look. “Sandy, its hot right now,” he mumbled. “We’ve no air conditioning and if it gets cold soon that would be great for everyone. I’m sure the tour company will find us soon. Our jeep’s Barbie pink as you say.”

“Oh and could you calm down? You’re frightening the elderly couples,” he said whispering into Sandra’s ear as to not offend the two couples nearby. 

Sandra gave Jim a weird look then continued yapping. The tour guides who had been on the radio the last hour with their company were now glaring at Sandra as they too sufferered in the heat and from her constant questions. 

The older couples had it the worst, Jim thought. No one wanted any of them to undergo heat stroke since the temperature  seemed to affect the four of them the most. Sandra’s constant complaining wasn’t helping the matter. 

“Simmer down, lady,” one guide told Sandra,”This happens sometimes. Another jeep is a couple of hours away, if you can control yourself until then.”

Sandra didn’t care, she kept talking. 

Jim was surprised when a lady in her seventies, named Meg, smacked Sandra’s face hard. So hard he could see the red outline of the woman’s hand on Sandra’s sweaty cheek. Sandra was so shocked she didn’t say another word except to ask for a bottle of water every couple of hours. 

Megan winked at Jim and said: “Nothing like a good smack in the face. I think the heat was getting to your wife. She seems to be okay now that I smacked her and that she’s drinking water instead of talking.” Jim laughed bumping fists with feisty Meg.

“Okay?” Jim asked Sandra later. 

“Yeah good now, just a little panic attack I think. The heat was getting to me.”

Jim laughed at this stroking Sandra’s back. 

The evening sky in the desert turned from twilight into glittering black with giant stars. All eight people in the jeep sighed with pleasure as the blistering heat cooled and they were awed by the fantastic celestial bodies. 

When another pink jeep arrived the next morning, no one complained about the heat or Sandra. Both problems had been eclipsed by the perfect temperature and the starry night viewed under them. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

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Day 22 – NaPoWriMo/A to Z Challenge /FFftAW: Poem – Rondel – “Wheat Fields” #poetry #flashfiction #NaPoWriMo #AtoZChallenge


Today’s NaPoWriMo challenge is to write a poem called a Georgic focused on taking care of the earth and agriculture and initially written by Virgil. For the A to Z Challenge the GoodRead’s writer’s quote will begin with the letter S. Also I’m using this poem for Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer hosted by the lovely Priceless Joy

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Credit: Yinglan Z

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“I felt my lungs inflate with the onrush of scenery—air, mountains, trees, people. I thought, “This is what it is to be happy.” ― Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

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In the fields pleasant green, pastures of peace. 

In the fields of wheat, standing tall to greet. 

The threshing machine worked, farmer in his seat, 

Radio loud as wheat full grown ceases —

No longer for a glorious view reached. 

Becomes the meals of many now to eat. 

In the fields pleasant green, pastures of peace

In the fields of wheat, standing tall to greet. 

An old wagon rotting by the house leased. 

Visions of yesterday, horses released. 

No burden for harvest to pull and meet. 

Times have changed, technology entreats. 

In fields pleasant green, pastures of peace. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

100 Word Wednesday: Stolen Away #flashfiction #100WordWednesday #amwriting 


Thanks to Bikurgurl for hosting #100WordWednesday.


Credit: Matias Larhag via UnSplash

I was excited to be away from home, I had been looking forward to exploring Europe and cities such as Stockholm in Sweden. It was a picturesque city and I was awed by the majestic view of it I had from the lake, the orderliness of the architecture.

I sighed loudly making noise and the man driving the boat smacked me hard. I peered up at the stranger who had kidnapped me with fear; a tear trickled down my cheek.

I knew I would never have the chance to explore Stockholm or any other city in Europe.


©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.

Tale Weavers: Poem – Wrapped Refrain – “On Resolutions” #amwriting #poetry #taleweavers


Thanks to MindLoveMisery’s Menagerieor hosting last week’s Tale Weaver’s prompt on a story of keeping/making resolutions in the New Year.

Credit: Abstract Art – http://www.pinterest.com

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It’s difficult, keeping going in —

The face of rejection given. 

I’ve learnt be fortified; than —

My cave won’t fall in strengthened

I’ve succeeded at some tries, failed at many others,found, 

Resolution; one must, keep pushing all boundaries.  

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So, what do we resolve, anything new

We continually have goals in view. 

Hoping we’ll achieve something great. 

Or make it through each day, not wait —

Wondering if the grass is greener, if inspiration

Can take flight, provide meaning, when we require.

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Do we lose weight, eat less sugar? 

Walk more, live our lives with vigor? 

Do we spend time with loved ones, 

Knowing we’re here, short while for some. 

Do we travel somewhere far away or give home —

To pets from the shelter? Strangers who are unknown
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We can resolve, try much harder, 

Do better, be specific, guard —

Ourselves, take baby steps to —

Goals we want achieved through, 

A change in habit, will it happen or will we —

As every year, change only when life forces free —

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What we truly need to change and be, 

Beyond ourselves, have self-belief, 

We will actually take a step, glean —

Some knowledge from the year, lean

Far from our own circles to celestial dreamscapes

It’s difficult to be grounded; worse to not create

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Three Line Tales: Three Views On A Train #amwriting #3linetales


Thank you to Sonya of Only 100 Words for hosting the 3 Line Tales challenge.

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Wilson Lau

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1. “All my bags are packed, I’m ready to go. . .” Da da da da da da da da, “So kiss me and smile for me, tell me that you’ll wait for me, hold me like you’ll never let me go; cause I’m leaving on a jet plane, don’t know when I’ll be back again. . .” Lydia kept singing the same parts of the popular song she knew; she was mad at her husband Dan because she had wanted to fly to their destination; Lydia was unimpressed when Dan announced they’d be travelling hours and hours by train; well since Dan didn’t ask her if she agreed with travelling by train, she was going to sing what she knew of “Leaving On A Jet Plane,” until Dan’s ears hurt, her throat was soar, and Dan remembered the message. 

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2.  Trains, planes, and automobiles, you chose the train; and I think it’s lovely we get to see the lush foil age of the countryside; trees every now and then with budding green leaves, deer and bison grazing in the wilderness; then, it began to pour and rain, the rain was loud as it hit the roof of the train car, it poured and dripped down the windows and sightseeing along the way to Vancouver became a washed out greyish-green window; I could follow the tracks of raindrops on the window and every time a drop stopped I sighed; this game was boring and I wanted to be in Vancouver already, flying was actually cheaper; I didn’t mind that there was no view, the view would come walking through the streets of the city, green everywhere and flowers and fruit blooming.

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3. “When I’m gone, when I’m gone, you’re gonna miss me when I’m gone; you’re gonna miss my by my hair, you’re gonna miss me everywhere, oh you’re going to miss me when I’m gone . ..” Darren sang the Johnny Cash tune as he stepped onto the train; adventure awaited and he could take his bike with him; he was excited, and enjoying travelling across Europe; Darren was young, barely twenty-years-old, but seeing all he’d seen, he never regretted not for one moment, dropping everything and flying to Europe, where Darren rode the train everywhere he went; in every city and country he could explore and absorb into his youthful mind.

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.

Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: A Gorgeous View #amwriting #flashfiction


Thank you to Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW.

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Barbera Taylor

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This city makes me dream of better things. From this view, it’s a paradise of skyscrapers grazing the winter sky. The windowed buildings glint in the sunlight. The light causes them to gleam, despite their varied shades of colour. There is a blue-green skyscraper fading into dirty brown, and other skyscrapers which are variations of grey and black. Some of the older buildings are a dull sandstone and ivory marble. 

Each building is unique. Certain buildings are modern and geometric and certain buildings are tall with pointed tops. Other buildings are layered, flowing down like ancient ziggurats, while other buildings are of a more recent era in the nineteenth and early twentieth-century. They’re the prettiest buildings, their historicism copied using the lovingly designed architecture of late gothic and early-Renaissance cathedrals.

I call this city my home but I hardly gaze at it from this view. The snow lies as delicate white lace beneath my booted feet and I think, such beauty we have here.

Yet, in this beauty of skyscrapers, snow, and sunlight shimmering, they’re few places to rest for an aged homeless man.

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©Mandibelle16.(2016) All Rights Reserved.

Poem: Sonnet – ” Ideal Woman, Human Being “


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http://www.theodysse.com
 
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How does the ideal woman actually look? 

Her beauty in each of her beholders —

Descerning eyes; is she grown or is she old?

Younger, then magazines show women look? 

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How does the ideal woman choose her dress?

Does she sit all day in her underwear?

Wear a tailored power suit to bear,

Burdens on her of corporate world stress?

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Perhaps, she wears old jeans and white t-shirts,

Or lives her life in lueon yoga pants,

Affected, men step-up, take a fighting chance?

Does what women wear, make them a tease, flirt? 

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How does the ideal woman like to talk?

Is she a Bitch upset who whines and nags? 

Does she act like a puffed-up man who brags? 

A level-headed girl always takes stalk.

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Is she an honest gentle kind of girl?

Giving the world charity as it wirls.

Maybe you’ve chanced upon a lying girl? 

Sheba wanting grand power to unfurl. 

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How does the ideal woman actually do —

All the things she has to accomplish?

The pressures forever her’s, she’s no wisp.

Survivors struggle but live, juggle too.

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Be the ideal woman, impossible dream–

It’s no job for a modern human being. 

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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Blogging 201 – Get A Read All Over


So, I wasn’t entirely sure how to show the 3 different views of my site on smart phone, tablet, and computer. But I took pictures of my computer with my tablet and will attach the photos. I am happy with how each view looks, even the smart phone view is good despite the fact that you can’t tell what the header is the smaller you go. But in my blog, the story or the text, is most important so that is what I want readers to be able to view easily.

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Changing the Way We Go


I’ve had a variety of ideas lately, mostly ideas that I don’t think have been productive and have been sad and lost. I think that would describe me for the last while as well: “sad” and “lost” and “unproductive.” I’ve been searching for something in my life and although I feel much better about the situation in my life I’m still searching. The thing that I’ve been searching for is change. Have you ever felt like that, that you just needed to alter the path you were going down in life? But that you needed help to make that change?

I spoke to you last blog about feeling trapped and feeling as if I had no where to turn. I often feel that way about my health. The fact that it is not only a mood disorder but that it is or involves chronic fatigue makes it a very difficult disease to deal with. Not only am I limited by not being able to work drive, or often, take the bus but I am limited on how long I can do activities, how long I need to rest after doing an activity, the easiness in which I can make new friends, and the amount of money I can make, and the ease by which I can sleep, and feel rested. And lately as I’ve said it has felt worse trying to concentrate and pay attention, trying to stay up later at night, and getting out of the house during the week.

Sorry if that is repeat for any regular readers but what I’m trying to get across is I had no idea how much a disease can limit you and I don’t know if it is possible but I pray that one day I can alter the path this disease has taken me down. That I can go back to being a woman who fills her days with work, activity, and people.

Lately, I have had dreams to travel to Europe. To see Britain, France, Italy, and Greece. And I don’t know how I would do that in this state. I dream about being able to save enough money and just taking off to see these places and having the energy to last a day, to meet and talk with new people, to handle crowds and noises, and to just get away from the reality of life. I think we all do that, dream.

When I picture the life that I have I am not ungrateful, I just wish for more freedom and the ability to handle more responsibility. The ability to be brave and change the outlook of my life. I have such a small view finder of what life is right now and it’s hard not just to see and black and white, to only live through stories. And I wonder so much what if. . . because to look at reality can be very limiting and I’ve always been more of a big picture person.

So what do you think? If you could change your life in some big way, what would you do?