Rock-ing, or: Bump-ing

A 'Waltz Wave' Photo credit:Dex Ezekiel (Unsplash) rock- ing back and forth my carrier case swings bump- ing up against my human's chest on the way to... to... oh! look! that dog's pulling her human down the side- walk What do you see? For Sadje's WDYS prompt, she offers us this photograph of a man… Continue reading Rock-ing, or: Bump-ing

Subtle airy chill, or: Nipples poke fabric

A 'Troiku' subtle airy chill her bare midriff draws glances taut muscles pull leash subtle airy chill drifts through my half-closed window rosy cheeks outside midriff draws glances tiny goosebumps on tanned skin nipples poke fabric taut muscles pull leash fastened to small dog's jacket oh- Autumn's arrived #TankaTuesday For Tanka Tuesday, hosted by Colleen… Continue reading Subtle airy chill, or: Nipples poke fabric

Eyes shining with laughter

Cassie wasn't worried; the pup always found his way home, as if he'd been equipped with broadband. Rex would return, eyes shining with laughter, carrying some stranger's property in his mouth. This piece of flash fiction was written in response to: The Sunday Muse #218;Fandango’s One-Word Challenge: 'broadband';Ragtag Daily Prompt Saturday: 'shine';Sammi Cox’s Weekend Writing… Continue reading Eyes shining with laughter

Give me strength, or: Patience

A haibun How does one manage to make herself almost-late to school practically every single morning? There are several different steps that one can take towards this goal. First, and perhaps most obviously, don't get out of bed on time unless it's Shabbat or other holiday, which is not a school day. Of course, sometimes… Continue reading Give me strength, or: Patience

Fields, or: Dreams

Poetry Partners #48 A senryū by Beka Tucker of 'bekatucker' Greyhound, sleek and fast. Sleep on my couch, safe and home. Adopted and ours. Beka Tucker: A Cleave poem by ben Alexander of ‘The Skeptic’s Kaddish’ (in the form of two senryū) greyhound, sleek and fast, delicate Bella,sleep on my couch, safe and home,running… Continue reading Fields, or: Dreams

Eaten up with guilt, or: Gusto

A triolet Hey! Are you even listening to me? How on earth do I get through to you? I wonder ~ though you wag eagerly... Hey! Are you even listening to me? No! Get your big head off of my knee! Max, damn it! Did you eat my shoe? Hey! Are you even listening to… Continue reading Eaten up with guilt, or: Gusto