#Flashfiction Challenge for Carrot Ranch Literary Community #Poetry

November 14: Flash Fiction Challenge

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November 14, 2019, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story using storm windows. It can be literal on a house, but also consider other portals, even spaceships or submarines. Can you make it into something new or build a story around something historical? Go where the prompt leads!

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In England we don’t have storm windows

We have triple double glazing

Which distorts the view outside something terrible

They’re only good for keeping out the cold and sound

Looking at the moon at night, you will see three

I can’t imagine needing them for the kind of winds

That sound like an angry animal

Trying to take the house brick by brick

Tornados, snowstorms the size of mountains

Whiting out the familiar, trapping families

In their homes, enforced imprisonment

By the local weather

I watch Chasing Tornados on TV

Wondering how it would feel to be up close…

©anitadawes

#Jaye’s Journal ~Week 46

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The day of my hospital check-up had arrived, and I felt oddly apprehensive. I had been worrying (just a little bit) that this might be the year that the mammogram would not be clear. Whether I thought four years clear might be pushing it a bit, I don’t know, or maybe it was because they had called me early?

For four years, I have been summoned the week before Christmas, so today’s appointment felt strange, even before I got there.

It was cold and wet as we travelled to Portsmouth, and I forced myself to think about everything else, determined to ignore the feeling of dread that had been following me around like a stray dog for days.

Turns out my summons was just for a check-up chat, and that the mammogram will be next month, like always.

The doctor gave the boobs the once over, checking the lymph nodes lumps and for lumps, and found nothing untoward, whatever that means these days.

All in all, this pointless visit (to me, anyway) made a four-hour hole in my working day, and I was already playing catch up.

But that’s life, isn’t it?

 

I read something the other day, something that made a lot of sense when I thought about it. These days, having a good think almost needs an appointment, but I digress.

Apparently, if you concentrate too much on all the small details, you will never get anywhere and end up going around in circles. A bit like I have been doing all week!

We must keep our eyes on the horizon… the one major goal that shines brighter than anything else, for if we allow our concentration to wander, even a little, we will end up getting nowhere, or worse, in the wrong place entirely.

I have a lot of plans in my head now, but my major goal isn’t at the top of the list. I had thought it would get there all by itself if I got all my ducks in a row!

 

My muse is clearly frustrated and wants to be writing. If I am honest, so do I.

I miss the daily discipline!

 

So, I don’t seem to be progressing much lately, most of the things I plan to do are proving both difficult and downright impossible. Maybe I am getting too old, at least I hope that’s all it is. Everything is either too complicated or takes too long, and my patience is wearing a bit thin.

My enthusiasm has given up and taken a walk, and I sincerely hope it won’t stay away for too long!

Tomorrow I will pull up my socks and get organised…

And that is a promise to myself that I intend to keep!

©jayemarie

 

#Wordle ~ 429 #Poetry

 

 

 

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Looking at the thick diamond crusted sky

It’s true what they say about the dark

It moves, there’s something living within

Slowly marching across my lawn

Holding my warm glass of milk

I like to look at the world outside before bed

The edge of my glass tasted salty

I wondered if Mrs Mack had been

Preparing her supper before bringing it to me

I knew she would take a glass of her favourite brew to bed

No looking at the stars for Mrs Mack

That would be a waste of good sleep time

How much beauty does she miss with her practical mind?

The way my luscious green lawn looks almost black at night

Standing there, reminding myself to write the cards for the gala

By rights, I should have written them yesterday

Clouds fell away from the face of the moon

Changing the lawn from black to silver

Chasing some of the dark shadows away…

©anitadawes

#Writephoto ~ Glow

Thursday photo prompt: Glow #writephoto

Image by scvincent.com

 

Meet me one last time to watch the sunrise

Before the blood of the Gods is taken

By the light of day

Their eyes blind to the beauty

Their own fury creates

They trust so little in love

Feuds erupt when it turns in on them

A beautiful maid becomes a reed

Another sent to Hades

Heroes born from forced labour

Where would we be without Hercules, Achilles

Helen and the many hearts she broke

So many stories born

where the sun breaks through

Where would we be without the dawn

And our imagination

I for one, would lose all inspiration

May the battle of the Gods

Continue creating…

©anitadawes

#writephoto

#FlashFictionChallenge for Carrot Ranch Literary Community #Poetry

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November 7, 2019, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story that includes Water Walkers. It does not have to be in the Anishinaabe tradition; in fact, it would be more interesting to see interpretations from across all nations and walks. It can be a title or used as a phrase. Go where the prompt leads!

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Water has a memory

Especially when it comes

to trying to wash the world away

Down some metaphorical drain hole

Flooding seems to drag all water together

It’s hard being reminded that there are many

Taking the water walk to survive

When so many take their hot and cold taps for granted

I remember my grandmother walking out of the house

To the pump room where she would carry her bucket

the three flights to her two small rooms

From preparing food, washing, cleaning house

she would need to take the water walk

I like to walk beside her…

©anitadawes

#BlogBattle: Harp #Poetry

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November 2019 Blog Battle

Our word this month is:

HARP

You can start writing at any time, but make sure you post your story by the 30th of the month to have your story shared here and on social media.

Once you’ve posted your story to your blog, put a link to it in the comments section, and we’ll add your story to the Battle Stories Line-up post.

Make sure to check back and read some of the stories of your fellow battlers. Leave comments to encourage these writers, and share each other’s stories!

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From the Heart

I was waiting for mum to tuck me in, tell me my bedtime story

She never read from a book, at times I wondered if she could read

The best stories come from the heart she said

Tonight, I want to tell you about the sacred willow tree

The fey folk make their harps when the moon is full

The goddess making sure that enchantment graces the strings

Building a mystic bridge between heaven and earth.

One night, when the full moon hid behind dark clouds

the chief harp maker discovered his golden harp had been stolen

This harp was never designed to be played by human hand

Should they be foolish enough to play the magic strings of the twilight harp

Like that moment between dark and light

They will find their souls struggling to stay in their own world

So, be careful when buying a second-hand harp

The music you play may be too painful for heart and soul to hear

You may find yourself in the land of the fey…

©anitadawes

Colleens Weekly #Poetry Challenge

Colleen’s 2019 Weekly #Tanka Tuesday #Poetry Challenge No. 152, #Poet’sChoice

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Image by Pixabay.com

 

One

Snowy

Christmas night

I heard Santa’s

Reindeer on our roof

Mum said I was dreaming

Telling day two lights are out

So he would need to check the roof

While you are there, dad, please look for prints

I believe Santa’s reindeer left their mark

Watching dad climb the ladder, fingers crossed

Dad changed the bulbs then climbed two rungs

Good as his word, he checked for prints

Someone has been here for sure,

can’t tell if they’re deer prints

I watched dad reach out

Climbing down now

He gave me

A brass

bell

©anitadawes

What Do You See prompt November 4 2019…

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What Do You See prompt November 4 2019

 

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Dark Moon

 

The white witch tree

Sails across the darkness

Driven by lightning

Waiting while the ghost moon

Devours the light

Trying to reach the world of man

Soft white clouds

Hide a darker purpose

To bring evil into being

To tear down your walls

Destroy what man has made

To break the children

Before the light claims them

No good can be done

When darkness lives inside their souls

The white witch must break free

from the spell she is under in time

to see the world of man with light

until then, our world remains in half-light…

©anitadawes

#Wordle 428 #Poetry

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My mind is in crisis over the card I received this morning

The lies, the silence, his friends cover for him

I remember hearing whispered conversation

Realising now that the person who sent the card

Wants me to know my husband is having an affair

Is it the woman herself who wants me to know?

I resign myself to the fact

Truth melts away under scrutiny

The late nights make sense now

The lame excuses, the strange scent

Lingering on his clothes

His excuse for that, laughable

It’s like a thunderstorm hitting me all at once

Am I grateful for the unknown author?

Ripping the scales from my eyes

After twenty-three years of marriage

Now I feel only disgust at myself, my ignorance

Lit by a postcard, delivered by an unknown hand

Why did they want me to know?

Not a friend, they would have come up and told me straight

One thought came to mind, was it

Someone he’s past over for this current lover

How long, how many?

I don’t think I’ll stick around to find out…

©anitadawes

November Fiction Prompt from Carol J Forrester… #Poetry

November Speculative Fiction Prompt

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Image by Carol J Forrester

Light

An abandoned garage

A temple to youth, their artistry

Dark painted columns speak of moments past

The hissing sound of spray cans

Mingled with laughter

Has anyone noticed it’s a place of two halves?

Beautifully rounded columns on the left

Lit, not by the distant window

On the right, the columns are in shadow

A lonely figure of a man walking through

His gait seems heavy

He’s searching for something in the graffiti

A message from a lost sweetheart

Her initial plain to see, a large B

Was she here, did she leave more to be found?

A reason for leaving.

Continuing his slow walk

her beautiful face shining behind him

The reason for the light, his heart heavy

Her message has gone unnoticed…

©anitadawes