Dust, it is said, is made primarily of shed human skin. But is the dust in my house only my dead skin? Or has someone else’s skin come in?
Image by Austin Ban via Unsplash.com
Category: Stories
Eclipse
Selene and Helios, A Drabble by Becky
Selene’s love is boundless. Her dark seeks Helios’ light. Her cold seeks his warmth. She wants him to see her, gift her with a fraction of his intensity. He is blinded by his own brilliance and doesn’t notice her pale luminescence, though she is so close he could touch her. He only sees the other stars, distant in the firmament, but matching his glory.
She vows, “you will see no one but me,” and envelops his radiance in her ghostly glow.
Her love cannot hold. He breaks free. But she plays the long game, beginning her obsessive celestial dance anew.
Six word stories By Becky
Wizard’s work, subtracting sun, revealing corona.
Shadow passes over the USA, only.
Selene in dominance, Helios in hiding.
Syzygy-sun-moon-earth in line.
Sun-Moon-Sun- equal werewolf confusion.
Six word stories By Tor Harper
Oh look, the eclipse! I’m blind.
Preschool lesson, don’t stare at sun.
Ancients said panic, Oregonians say party!
lullabies
ropey clouds at sunset
played out over a beryl sky
the tide slipping out
in a quiet room
only the sound of pages turning
pen scratching paper
asleep in the cabin
the restless heart of the sea
echoes in her chest
Image by Robin Anderson
Watching
“Pa! They’re here.”
“Who?”
“The crows.”
“Jeez, Ma, give it a rest.”
“They’re watching.”
“What?”
“The garden. They’re watching, just waiting for the plants to grow. To ripen.”
“Ma!”
“Then they’ll do their dirty work.”
“Yer crazy, cut it out!”
“Pa! One landed!”
“Wait, Ma, no! Come back. Ah shoot! Crow for dinner again.”
Mean Tide
She rode into town on a mean tide. Exhausted and dirty, she figured she was washed up, done for. But in the morning she changed her mind, cleaned up and put on the paint that made her feel young again. At an open air market she picked up a fellow and decided to go back to the old ways, the siren song, maybe lure him to his death?
No luck. Instead he placed her on a shelf with glass floats and a wooden fish.
Now she dreams of the sea.
Image by Robin Anderson
Suburban Haiku
craving solitude
I search a pink wilderness
the shopping mall
thrum of water pump
my neighbor’s carpets are clean
Stanley steams again
day closes in now
air redolent of evening
Hamburger Helper™
Image from Flikr/commons
CAW
Raucous caws, black silhouettes against gray clouds circling without formation, guided by sky-touching spires of firs. She remembers last year’s ravaged corn. She remembers “The Birds.” They are powerful, smart and numerous. They inspire primal fear, admiration and covetous love. And arise from more ancient stock than she.
Image by Becky Kjelstrom
Untitled
dip, dart, twist, soar, slide
above wind tossed branches
ecstatic crow flies
Six Word Story
by Harrison Fulop
First of Summer. Now darkness grows.
Image by Robin Anderson
A Brief Romance
e noticed her first. Tall and beautiful, she gazed about the garden until, at last, she saw him. She looked away quickly, confused. Was it usual to be stared at so rudely? She fled into the shadows.
But she returned. She grew used to seeing him, watching her. He did nothing to alarm her. One day, to both their surprise, she smiled.
They talked all summer, about their hopes, fears, eventually about their future together. But in their swift slide into love, they forgot one thing.
*****
“Honey, it’s time to bring the garden decorations in. It’s going to freeze tonight.”
