Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: “Da Truth” #amwriting #flashfiction


Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW.


Credit: @any1mark66


“Why do ya drive out here all da time, Jaron?”

“Ta clear me head. Especially after it rains, I love de scent of de damp earth and when dat rainbow appears I feel rapt. The storms out here are terrible. But der is truly a calm after da storm when a rainbow ‘appens.”

Dave scratched his beard. “I always wondered why such a lovely event occurred. Da scientific expla’tion of refracted light or someden’ like dat, never feels to me like I’m gettin’ da full deal.”

Jaron laughed. “You neva heard da story of Noah, mister well-read.”

“Yeah, a long time ago. Da rainbow was a promise ta never destroy da earth again by flood. But I always thought, there are worse ways ta go dan by drowning.” Dave shook his head and sighed.

“What were ya thinkin’? Fire, volcanoes, earth quakes or worse?”

Dave shrugged. “I prefer nat ta think about it. Besides we’re nat talking about a rainbow anymore jus’ da end of ta earth. Revelations, I think.”

Jaron pulled out a cool six pack from the trunk of his car. He tossed a can to Dave. “I think right now I jast prefer ta look at dat rainbow and focus on hope. Whatever comes will come but better dat I don’t know about it or dat I’m already dead.”

“Dat’s da truth there, Jaron.”


©Mandbelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

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Photo (Collage) Challenge: Poem – Tankas – “The Mountain’s Wrath” #amwriting #poetry 


Thank you to MindLovesMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s double prompt:

Laura Bloomsbury

———

Black and white can change, 

Become the most flaming bright of —

Colours; yet we’re like —

Dorothy on her Kansas —

Farm, not realizing life is grey. 

Never seeing technicolor.

——–

If mountains are but smoke, 

No one who said those words knew, 

How burning orange and —

Yellow looks when your skin is —

Seared; the mountain spit lava clear.

Blew her top, melted downwards. 

——-

On to the town who, 

Had little idea but should —

Have known this day, 

No technology clued.

Their mountain could release Hell,

Sulphurous smelling, burnt Hell.

—-

Poisonous gases, 

Leaking down to the town folk, 

No chance had they when, 

Ashes fell like snow.

The worst kind of snow signals, 

The ire of the mountain’s breath.

——-

In stores, on boardwalks, 

Going about their day the same.

When she erupted, 

No one cared at first.

But the ash and gases came, 

Killing to begin, before —

—–

Lava reached familiar,

Buildings, the library.

Homes, grocery stores, work.

Yet the sky was filled, 

She billowed out her smoke rings, 

And she was just beginning.

——-

Threy should’ve known to —

Leave earlier but no one, 

Takes responsibility;

To late to lay blame.

Run far and fast, lava spews.

Keep going magma flows, kills.

——

No Dante’s Peak is —

This; only mother nature’s, 

Roaring and giving, 

Life as she takes it.

Many die unaware, don’t see, 

Never knew today would be —

The end: waiting done, 

Here comes the promised one near.

Yet some survived it.

Never took lightly, 

Those words: A Mountain is noth –

ing but smoke — they lived through it.

—–

Those who rebuilt knew, 

As the lava and fire burnt their —

Homes, loved ones to crisps. 

Beware the mountain;

Geologists trained don’t know, 

When she’ll yield furious wrath.

——

©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reseved 

Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers – The Island


The volcanic island sat there dormet, or so everyone thought.

We had come to L’Isle to enjoy the lush nature around us, the lovely beaches,and hauntingly beautiful ocean. There was scuba diving, off-roading, fishing, shopping, and time to lay in the pure white sand.

Sometime around 1:30 pm we heard a rumble. The local news said it was nothing, that the Volcanic Island made noises sometimes but the rumbles continued from the volcano and people began to evacuate. My mother decided it was time to fly home.

I remember that day as we took off from the small airport on the island the sky was so clear you could see tropical birds flying. But then the volcano blew its top. Magma and fire rained down upon the island and animals and people were caught in its trap.

The smoke was thick but we flew in the opposite direction back towards Europe, away from the smoke and destruction. When mother nature exploded she came a part mercilessly.

L'Isle before the Volcanic Eruption
L’Isle before the Volcanic Eruption

Thanks to Priceless Joy for organizing. Want to participate?

https://flashfictionforaspiringwriters.wordpress.com/2015/04/14/fffaw-week-of-4-15-2015/