A Broken Wing

michael-carruth-m_tnGfoHeko-unsplash

(Photo: Michael Carruth on Unsplash)

 

They stumbled

Broken

On the wind,

Dragging behind

A shattered wing.

Still chanting with

The roar of

Mobs,

Dispersed a faction

That from the

Truth’s been

Robbed.

Their memory

Fogged

By lie’s

Remorse,

Will they attempt to

Correct course?

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Faction in 39 words

 

Broken Tea (“Emilia” excerpt)

 

“…When the little girl was finally sleeping, Marion put her to bed and tucked her in and sat on the edge of the daybed for a long while, looking older and more tired than anything that could be attributed to her eighty-five years. Pushing up from the bed, Marion began collecting the child’s clothing to fold for the next day, only to toss the lot on the floor, swipe a book and a half-empty mug off the table, and storm out of the house. The mug lay shattered on the stone floor, tea stains splattered. KayAnne stared at the ruined cup, reluctant to clean up and somehow needing the brokenness to remain: She wanted to demolish something herself.”

Excerpt from “Emilia

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For The Daily Post