(Photo: Amitai Asif)
The sun took her leisure.
It was, after all, the longest day.
She could, till the next time,
Meander
Just a little bit
Across the sky.
Peering down at the blue marble
She raised a ray to salute
The tiny orbit.
Odd,
That one,
In how it keeps questioning
Why.
For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Orbit in 50 words
“He’s gonna do WHAT?!!”
Oh oh, never should have said nothing. I swallowed and inspected my sneakers. Found a stain. Hopefully mustard.
Mom grabbed my shoulder.
“Marcus Anthony Jeremiah Rivera, what did you just say your brother was up to?”
Her face told me it’d be as bad for the messenger if I didn’t confess. I was toast. Benito was gonna beat me up soon as she was done with him.
“See those towers?”
Her eyes narrowed.
“Benito saw a big rope between them and he said it’s perfect for zip-lining.”
Way Mom ran, she should’a been in the Olympics.
For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers
They were going to make a day of it.
Get some fresh air.
“It would do you good,” she’d said. “You’ve been cooped in for far too long.”
And he had. And he didn’t really care if he stayed cocooned indoors for a few more weeks. Or months. Or years. Or till life’s end.
But he also didn’t want to upset her, and she’d been putting up with him, moody silences and pacing through the nights and appetites that came and went in both extremes and often not for what she’d taken the time to prepare.
So he agreed. And washed. And dressed in something less wrinkled than what he’d been living in. And they went.
The air did do him good.
The open space. The light. The breeze. The views.
Until.
She’d seen them first and tried to shield him, but his mother has never been very good at hiding her distress, and he read through it and looked in the direction she was clearly hoping he would not.
His ex. The girl who’d left him at the altar, who abandoned him to do all the explaining and pay all the bills and mollify all the aunties and absorb all the pitying looks and lose face and his dignity and eventually his job.
There she was. Pressed into another man.
His blood rushed into his ears as he remembered: he had the same photo taken. With her. Wearing the same smitten look.
And he wondered if someone had stared at them, too, at the time, and considered him the next man she’d rob.
(Note: This story is fiction. I don’t know anyone in this photo and no real connection between the photo prompt and the content is intended.)
“It says this way to the manor,” Doug tugged Lily’s sleeve.
“I know,” she shrugged to release his hold. At thirty-four, he was really quite too old to tug on clothing for attention.
“So why are we going in the opposite?”
She wondered how it was that there was a time when the nasal tone of his petulance didn’t bother her. Had she simply ignored it in the beginning, when infatuation took precedence to logic? Doug was still easy on the eyes, but her heart had become wiser.
“Because the manor will still be there later, while this Farmer’s Market stall might not.”
“What’s wrong with Big-Mart?”
Her lips tightened. She couldn’t believe he actually whined. “Big-Mart has no proper food. Everything’s processed. And anyway, I’d much rather support local farmers than corporate executives.”
She cringed at the sound of her own voice. She’d become her mother. To her boyfriend.
For Crispina’s Crimsons Creative Challenge #57
Photo: Smadar Halperin-Epshtein
Bright light shines
Onto poles
As egrets call
And small hands
Hold
Sight to
Behold.
For the Tuesday Photo Challenge: Rectangles
The day dawned gray and there was threat of rain, but she wasn’t going to be deterred by a bit of dirty weather.
She dressed him in his powder blue slicker and packed a bag with this and that. She weighed the idea of leaving the cumbersome stroller, but at three, though the boy liked walking, he lacked endurance for it.
“We going to see Papa?” he asked as the train rolled into the station.
She hesitated. She was loath to lie to him.
“Not the one you know,” she answered finally. “Though he may become it. We shall see.”
For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers
Photo: Osnat Halperin-Barlev
Come on Daddy, let’s pack
Some more rocks on your back
This way you will discover
All the treats I uncover
Also bugs and some leaves
Gifts for Mommy to retrieve.
For Tuesday’s Photo Challenge: Treat
Photo: Smadar Halperin-Epshtein
Come this way and I’ll show you
The best spots for
Sweet cherries.
Come this way
I’ll protect you
From the thorns
On the berries.
Hold my hand
Be my friend.
From today to the end
You can on me
Depend.
For Cee’s Which Way Photo Challenge
Photo: Smadar Halperin-Epshtein
It is not everyday
You see ostrich crew
Arrive for your order
At the Drive-Thru,
Or have zebras peek in
To ensure you are pleased
Beating deer to the chase
To customers’ ease.
For Cee’s Odd Ball Photo Challenge
tucked away in the mountains
History of the Bloomingdale area on Manhattan's Upper West Side
A creative miscellany of mythic fantasies
a weekly flash fiction prompt inspired by google maps
A community for writers to learn, grow, and connect.
To participate in the Ragtag Daily Prompt, create a Pingback to your post, or copy and paste the link to your post into the comments. And while you’re there, why not check out some of the other posts too!
Alternative haven for the Daily Post's mourners!
never judge a girl by her weight
original fiction and rhyme
Taotalk is a forum for the discussion of both the academic and pragmatic aspects of dao and Daoism, with participants expressing themselves on Daoist writings and pragmatics from their unique perspectives. It serves as a community for Daoists, and those interested in Daoism, to gather and talk dao.
A photographer's view of the world - words and images to inspire your travels and your dreams
Life in progress
Straight up with a twist– Because life is too short to be subtle!
WordPress & Blogging tips, flash fiction, photography and lots more!
Better Living Through Beauty, Wisdom and Whimsey
Life in a flash - a weekly writing blog
Na'ama Yehuda 
You must be logged in to post a comment.