In spite of an unusually warm delay, autumn arrived with a chilly bluster, and Mrs. Pomeroy quickly moved her non-hardy citrus trees indoors, away from the dropping nighttime temperatures. However disappointed, Buttercup knew not to waste time bemoaning the absence of her beloved mandarins; she needed a viable energy source to get through winter. Minutes… Continue reading An unusually chilly bluster
His behavioral patterns, and hers, were entirely predictable during election season; but their public cheer was incongruous with his true intentions. She knew, oh so well, that he'd renege on his promises, including those to her... But he'd certainly give her the chop if she didn't play her part. Photo by Alfred Eisenstaedt This piece… Continue reading If she didn’t play her part
d’Verse prosery "I used to love gardening... small, branching lavender shrubs; heavy, pink peonies; trumpet-shaped lilies... Oh, and I’d like, too, to plant the sweet alyssum that smells like honey and peace, my Dearest. That would be truly, truly divine." "Grandma?" "Yes, Darling?" "Could you tell me again about The Peace Times? Tell me about… Continue reading From an anonymous sender
September 11. Time to commemorate – with a game. Again. Alice rewrapped the bandage around her heart, knowing it might not contain her multiform grief. Sometimes it flashed, luminous, burning; other times it was nebulous, tickling. She still remembered the day Frank had foisted his chess board upon her… and his deliberate blunder that swung… Continue reading September 11. Again.
Tjandamurra had caught the avian in Coastal Mambakoort for cremation. Supposedly, black swan ash was advantageous for 'omen-seeing', which he'd neoterized. Expecting tragedy, Jedda absconded with her new friend. This piece of flash fiction was written in response to: The Sunday Muse #226; Fandango’s One-Word Challenge: 'abscond'; Ragtag Daily Prompt Saturday: 'ash'; Word of the… Continue reading Black swan ash
Merle's muscles loosened, as the notes of Delibe's "Flower Duet" wafted into the bathroom. Lakmé was her favorite opera. The Paris flight would be leaving now; and Merle wouldn't see Luca again for at least another week. Her unfaithful husband's "extended business trips" regularly dragged on for undefined stretches; their most recent bitter disagreement of… Continue reading The Paris flight
Sahir looked up from the monarch's bloated corpse on the shore at the child's tear-stained face, deftly flicking his hand skywards. "Princeling, we must return you to your family's alcázar immediately." The boy gawked as a closed door in a sturdy frame plummeted earthwards from above the clouds, swinging open just before alighting askew upon… Continue reading Alighting askew upon the dunes
As Aatami grew increasingly distant, Tuulikki became despondent at her self-chosen earthly fate. Whenever her human mate left on business, she'd rescue two dazzling cloth wings from the laundry and stand, arms apart, against the wind at the shore. The lazy gulls would mock her mercilessly, but Tuulikki's contempt for herself was greater. This piece… Continue reading The lazy gulls would mock her