Exactly

 

 

“There!” Tim pointed.

“The rough without the diamond,” Robert snorted, hands shoved in the pockets of his too tight jeans.

Melissa giggled. 

Tim felt his heart sink. This was exactly what he wanted. How come the others could not see?

“You’d do better in the junkyard,” Robert walked away. “He must’a hated you to leave you that”

Melissa pranced behind him.

“I’m sorry,” Tim whispered to the old car. “Mr. Evans left you here, yes, but he kept your engine in his shed. Wrapped like a present. Safe.”

“I will put you back together,” he promised. “Exactly as he’d asked.”

 

 

 

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Photo credit: © Ted Strutz 

To Life

christian-bowen-I0ItPtIsVEE-unsplash

(Photo: Christian Bowen on Unsplash)

 

She strained

Against walls which

Heaved

About her.

She tensed limbs and

Tucked her

Chin

Fighting for a

Purchase

Around her.

And still the world

Convulsed.

Impossible in

Pressure.

Till sudden

Light.

A gasp of cold

As air

Rushed

Into lungs

To life her.

 

 

 

 

For dVerse quadrille poetry challenge of: gasp in 44 words

Reprieve

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She lifted her face to the sun and felt the vibrant scents of waves and freedom fill her lungs. The whole of her relaxed as if on cue. Pre-programmed. Indelibly tuned in to the whoosh of ocean breath that she could not yet see but every cell within her remembered.

Her heart swelled and her chest rose, liberated.

The moment coursed through her in liquid satisfaction.

Surf. Ebb. Swish. Flow. Hiss. Sand-licking waves.

Another inhalation of the salty tang and behind her she could hear the sounds of other people readying to take the path from car-park to sand. A child protested. A man’s voice soothed. A door slammed. A moment later a discordant melody of feet clip-clopped onto the faded wooden slats, drumming a crescendo of expectation through her bare feet.

The beach.

A needed reprieve.

At home at last by the ocean where her soul had always lived.

 

 

For Crispina‘s Crimson’s Creative Challenge

 

A Slice Of The Big Apple

Sliced apples

 

Sometimes the core of the issue

Can find growth in the yard

But the meat of the matter

Is what you must not discard …

 

Note: New York State is known for its apples. Also, New York City is called “The Big Apple” … with multitudes of people wanting to have a slice of that apple for themselves … So, though the photo may not be the ‘traditional’ way of portraying the ‘apple-appeal’ of the City, I’d like to think you’d agree that at the very least it shows it in a very digestible manner … 🙂

 

For the Sunday Stills photo challenge: State/City symbols

No Longer Cold

HolidayNYC NaamaYehuda

Photo: Na’ama Yehuda

 

It had stared

Though the window

At the clothed

Indoor tree

Wrapped in tinsel

And glory,

Gifts at its feet,

Stars on its crown.

And it shivered,

Naked,

In the cold.

All leaves long gone.

“This tree is naked,”

A child stopped,

Compared,

Bemoaned.

“It is too cold.”

Not anymore, Child,

Not anymore.

 

 

Note: I took this photo earlier today in New York City, as I walked past this brownstone’s holiday decorations. This post is dedicated to all who are outside, looking in. May you be seen. May you be clothed. May you be known. May you no longer be cold.

 

Also, for the new Monday Window challenge

And an extra tag for Frank’s Tuesday Photo Challenge of: Holidays

 

 

Windows On Display

On display NaamaYehuda

Photo: Na’ama Yehuda

 

His artwork,

Carefully crafted by

Little fingers

And a big

Heart,

Proudly on display

At the family’s

Living room,

Like any well deserving

Art.

 

Note: This is one of a series of creations by my nephew, who was about 7-8 years old when he crafted this and other lovely depictions in modeling clay 3D art.

 

For the Lens-Artists Challenge: on display

 

 

 

Present Time

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Photo: Annie Spratt on Unsplash

 

It is time for the presents

It is time for the wraps

It is time for the ribbons

All the holiday traps.

You will ooh and will ahh

You will grin in delight

And I’ll hold my breath hoping

Your smile holds upon sight.

It will be what you wanted

Whether you know it or not

Because no matter the present

It wasn’t one that you bought.

As the evening progresses

And the empty box stares

I will hope you remember

Just how deeply I care.

So I gift you the plenty

That I hold in my heart

And the dream of tomorrow

Where we shan’t be apart.

 

 

 

For the dVerse challenge: gift rhymes