Photo: Khamkéo on Unsplash
She squared her shoulders
To the wind
Words spinning past
Her ears,
And stuck her chin
Out
To the freeze,
Refusing to
Bow
Or flinch.
“So fierce,” he chuckled,
Unamused.
Survivor, she thought,
Of your abuse.
For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Fierce in 36 words
(Photo: Nathan Dumlao on Unsplash)
It was going to be the thing
To make all things
Everything that they were meant
To be.
A remedy
For all the wants
And dreams.
“Ah, but you will surely bungle it,”
His mother said.
And crushed his dream
Instead.
For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt of: Bungle in 41 words
(Photo: Daniela Paola Alchapar on Unsplash)
They took the temperature
Of the crowd,
And realized they could
Twist skeins of truth into
Great blobs of knotted lies,
Then sell
As remedy
To now a fevered mob,
A distorted gospel
Bloated with melodramatic
Sighs.
For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt of: Temperature in 37 words
They built their house on the other side of the fence.
The far end of the bay.
To stay away.
Others aren’t like us, they’d say.
We’re better.
People don’t understand that
They’re nothing like us.
They built their house on the other side
Of the fence.
Taught their kids to hate
The Others
For not being
Like them.
For being
Less worthy.
Less than.
They build their house on the other side of
The fence.
The town gawked
First
Then shrugged
Then came to believe
That indeed
They were different,
Even dangerous
On the other side of
The fence.
For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers
Photo prompt © Rowena Curtin
(Photo: Casey Horner on Unsplash)
They gathered in formation. Pressed close against each other, every atom tight, compressed, readied for flight.
The energy reverberated. Excitement climbed.
“On your mark!”
They huddled to the center.
Bright. Bright.
“Let go!”
Radiate out!
For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt of: Radiate in 35 words
(Photo: Paul Zoetemeijer on Unsplash)
They were drawn in, unsuspecting,
By tales of glory finally
Being restored,
From a manufactured time of
Old.
Then kept in even when doubting
To go on,
Stuck, as it were, in
The eye of a hate filled
Maelstrom.
Spun, they were,
In webs of lies.
To leave they would
Need to give up
Pretended lives.
For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Maelstrom in 56 words
(Photo: Beth Hope on Unsplash)
She became an essence.
A sliver
Of her dreams.
Nothing near the child
She’d been, who played
A fairy’s magic theme,
With arms a fledgling’s
Widespread
Wings.
Life tossed her
From the nest.
Unhinged.
She a feather now.
A mere sliver
Of a being.
For the dVerse Quadrille challenge of: Sliver
(Photo: Intricate Explorer on Unsplash)
His chest pumped high
In disrespect
He struts
And spouts,
Magniloquent.
Follow his every word
They must,
Appease or face
Scathing wrath.
Bombastic peacock
Heading
Cult.
For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt of: Magniloquent in 26 words
(Photo: Stefan Spassov on Unsplash)
His claim was
Impartiality.
In practice he exhibited bias
So pervasive
As to blind him.
For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt of: impartiality in 15 words
(Photo by Volkan Olmez on Unsplash)
Her legs were lead.
Her arms were stone.
She could not take another step.
The weight around her neck,
Shackles
She could not
Discard.
She was so tired.
But she’d gotten them away
And he was breathing still.
So she shifted the child in her arms.
Walked on.
For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt of: tired in 48 words
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