6 Word Stories by Becky and Tor
T-Rex, scales and/ or feathers. Bird lizard
T-Rex, T-Rump tiny hands and brain.
T-Rex, when will science know you?
Who is T-Rex? Science can’t decide.
T-Rex, Thunder lizard, children adore you.
T-Rex, T-Rump itty bitty useless hands.
Predator or scavenger? Hawk or crow?
Kids love T-Rex, long dead danger.
Kids love T-Rex: plush teeth, claws.
T-Rex can’t run. Olympic speed walker.
T-Rex drawing by Tor Harper
in an old portrait
she stands poised, oddly ready.
does she smell mouse blood?
the perfect dress hugs
her nubile form, alas no
hat to hide her ears.
hungry but calm she
awaits the arrival
of her hapless mate
Write, coffee, write, coffee, write, write…
Pen to paper, brain to hand
To outline or not to outline
First drafts, eeek, eeek, eeek, eeek
Edit, tear out hair, edit again
Too many people, too little light.
Image via flikr/commons
“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.”
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
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
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
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.”
If I say to you white is all, black is absence. If you say to me black is all and white is absence. Are we talking about light or pigment? Are we talking about physics or art? Or are we cheering the home team?
Decay of velvet
Heathens among the roses
Thorns, attar of dirt
Image by Rodion Kutsaev via Unsplash.com
