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 the West flows a mighty river. Down mountains, over rocks and boulders, through trees it runs. Strong and unabated it slides toward civilization. No dam or levee can hold back the fierce flood. But it neither splashes nor sparkles in the sun. It’s pools and eddies are dark. It reflects nothing and chokes all beings it overtakes. Dry and noisome, it is a river of smoke.
The West is on fire.
Image by Jeremy Thomas via Unsplash.com
A drabble
“I woke up, found soot everywhere and though it was Armageddon.” Cough
“Smoke and ash raining from the sky.”
“And speaking of rain, what about the hurricanes and floods?” Cough
“Yes, it is positively biblical!
“Sun to darkness, moon to blood.” Cough
“All before that great and awesome day when the lord returns.”
“Global warming, pssh.” Cough, cough
“End of days more like.”
“God will punish the wicked.” Cough, cough, cough
Cough, cough, cough, cough, cough, cough…silence.
“Mildred!”
“She’s not breathing! Someone help!”
“No pulse, ma’am.”
“But she’ll miss the rapture.”
“Sorry ma’am.”
Photo by Bjorn Tore Okland on unsplash
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
Soft edges, dim light, quiet.
We awake to a foggy morning. Much discussion at breakfast; will it burn off? Should we drive inland for a better chance of seeing the sun? We decide to stay put.
As the morning progresses, the bright disk eats away our gray blanket and patches of blue appear. We are hopeful now. But when the moon begins to digest the sun, the temperature drops and the fog re-forms.
On the dune, it is even foggier but we hope to see the eclipse shadow racing across the ocean’s surface. This is the only place to do that now. I set a timer for Totality and speak with my fellow shadow seekers. We spend as much time looking seaward as we do staring at Earth’s waning star. The timer tone, crickets, sounds. A last turn to the west as a cooler breeze brings oscillating shadow bands and the soft charcoal mist of a 230,000 mile deep darkness.
Cheers erupt. Eclipse glasses are flung aside. Bare eyed we gape at coronal glory. Not the stark white blue light against a night sky that we expected. No stars appear, the fog obscures them, but in exchange gives us another gift. Refraction. Pink, blue, green and red filaments twitch and dance around the moon’s dark face. She is a Medusa satellite and for a moment we all turn to breathless stone.
At last, the fog kisses us and we awaken, perhaps with tears on our cheeks. More cheering accompanies the scramble to retrieve glasses. Then wild applause as the sun emerges, vanquishing the troublesome moon, burning away the fog and setting our seaside world aright.
Image by Paul Rysz via Unsplash
Six word stories
Corona, sun’s afterglow, revealed by moon.
Bailey’s Beads, risk sight to see?
Image by auntmasako via Pixabay
Too many people, too little light.
Image via flikr/commons
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
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!
“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.”
