From Afar

Time for another entry in Friday Fictioneers challenge, courtesy of Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. If you want to give it a try, check the info on her blog. 100 words more or less, inspired by a photo, here we go….

 Copyright –   Jellico’s Stationhouse

The soft afternoon light follows the shadows waltzing across the wall, like a lover following the one who offers only a heartbreak. Curtains part before a breeze that carries the fragrance of spring flowers and something long forgotten. The music sneaks around the old furniture, whimsically scattered across the room. Two entangled bodies reflect in the large mirror at the foot of the bed, offering a splendid portrait of wasted chances. A long-case clock in the corner mocks the thieves, as the stolen time slips away.

His arms hold me tight.

This wont last.

But I don’t care about tomorrow.

Home

Time for another entry in Friday Fictioneers challenge, courtesy of Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. If you want to give it a try, check the info on her blog. 100 words more or less, inspired by a photo, here we go….

 Copyright –   Jennifer Pendergast

“Hard to imagine it was once blue, isn’t it Grandpa?”

Ryōkan watched his granddaughter, nose and hands pressed to the window, her imagination trying to transform brown planet into an aquarelle of blues and greens.

“I don’t have to imagine, I remember.”

With an ease enabled by the low gravity field, Kahouru pushed against the window and glided towards Ryōkan.

“I wish we could go back.”

Kissing the top of her head, Ryōkan offered his pocket watch to Kahouru. The old broken thing with an image of the Earth elicited the sweetest smile from the girl.

“Maybe in another lifetime.”

You Carry Me

Time for another entry in Friday Fictioneers challenge, courtesy of Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. If you want to give it a try, check the info on her blog. 100 words more or less, inspired by a photo, here we go….

 Copyright –   Shaktiki Sharma

“One, two, three…One, two, three…turn to your left. And again!”

I was there once. Feet softly touching the ground, your arms lifting me up in the air, my hands reaching for the sky. I never counted the steps, never thought about the moves. We were liquid magic, barely standing still.

“Two, two, three…Two, two, three…Release!”

I stand still now. Watching someone else dance my dreams away. The paralyzing pain comes in waves, crashing over me, leaving me breathless.

But you are here, lifting me up, whispering softly:

“One, two, three…One, two, three…Fly!”

You carry me.

Frozen Ground

Time for another entry in Friday Fictioneers challenge, courtesy of Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. If you want to give it a try, check the info on her blog. 100 words more or less, inspired by a photo, here we go….

clouds-above-the-trees

 Copyright –   Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Stretch your sails and sail away,
search for that elusive land;
follow a promise of another day,
I promised long ago I’d understand.

I can almost touch your pain,
don’t you know how it feels?
You said things would be the same,
knowing all along our love kills.

We have tumbled from our cloud…
fallen hard to our knees;
lacking courage to speak out loud,
but there’s no hiding what heart sees.

Sun seems always too far away,
standing on a frozen ground.
Maybe someone will discover
our love in a box of lost and found.

Pale Blue Dot

Time for another entry in Friday Fictioneers challenge, courtesy of Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. If you want to give it a try, check the info on her blog. 100 words more or less, inspired by a photo, here we go….

january-snowfall-nighttime

 Copyright –  Sarah Potter

The view up here is beautiful, the splendor of my home below more distant every minute. Everything I ever knew and loved is there. DNA of my ancestors and my descendants compressed in building blocks of future. And still…there is this calmness I feel, the sense of fulfillment as I reach for my final frontier.

My great-grandmother taught me to look up, to search the sky: “One day you could be up there.”
“But I am not a bird.”
She would smile and caress my cheek: “No, you are a ray of light.”

Here I am, soon to become just that.

Where there were snowflakes, I saw galaxies. This week’s offering is an excerpt from the short story I wrote some time ago. I am working on a longer version, but you can check the original with all its imperfections. 🙂

Make It Count

 

Balloons And Other Trifles

Time for another entry in Friday Fictioneers challenge, courtesy of Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. If you want to give it a try, check the info on her blog. 100 words more or less, inspired by a photo, here we go….

diner-roger-bultot

 Copyright –   Roger Bultot

I left him standing there…an old man with a bunch of balloons hovering above his bald head. He looked kind of funny, in his three-piece gray suit, firmly holding  those silly reminders of our silly relationship.

“As the sad stories go, ours was not the most tragic one…but it still hurts.”

It took me just a fraction too long to smile back. But I just couldn’t find the words. Then again, some things are better left unsaid…

Under the watchful eyes of his guards, I kissed him on a cheek and whispered softly into his beard: “Goodbye, Your Highness.”

Circles

Time for another entry in Friday Fictioneers challenge, courtesy of Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. If you want to give it a try, check the info on her blog. 100 words more or less, inspired by a photo, here we go….

horses-in-snow

 Copyright –  Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

My sister sounds tired and her voice quivers.

“How many do you have?”

“Seventeen. You?”

“Eight. But I am going out again, there are few more places I need to check.”

“I hear they are closing in from the west, with helicopters and 4wheelers. Be careful.”

I know my words fall on deaf ears, cause I too will be heading out again.

My eight year old is stuck to my left hip, watching the horses.

“What will happen to the ones left out there? Who will help them?”

I don’t know what to say to her…I just don’t know.

My fellow blogger Mary Hone posted an emotional response to the fact that Bureau of Land Management plans a roundup of wild horses in February. Reading some more into it gave me a glimpse into complexity and tragedy of the problem, again confirming how disastrous our actions are to the echo system and the future of this planet. Emotions and reality often clash, but are inseparable in the end.

Tales from the back road: Help Save The Wild Horses

Bureau of Land Management

Success Spoils a U.S. Program to Round Up Wild Horses