feeling gratitude
for harmonic convergence
and tranquil echoes
In the current world context in which everything SUCKS, I’m trying to practice gratitude. I’m not very good at it! Thanks to Sue and Ronovan for (at least) reminding me to try!
Tag: photo prompt
bones of our past
to defy ennui
a message in a bottle
washed ashore today
bearing the bones of our past
as starkly bleached harbingers
This bleak message was written as a response to the image by S. Hermann & F. Richter from Pixabay courtesy of the wonderful Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday Poetry Photo Challenge. Click for details and other contributions.
For some reason, this week’s photo reminded of this old movie! I think it’s more likely she’ll be covered in rising oceans not sand, but still ….
TWBB* Strikes Again
Ben was patient. He could wait.
No couples or guys. Girls or little kids or moms were best. He could outrun them.
His back ached but he’d wait. For the perfect target.
SPLAT!
Shock. Fear. Relief. Then anger or laughter.
Run or bow? That space of unknown. That moment. Perfection.
This 280 character tale about *The Water Balloon Bandit was inspired by Kat’s Twittering Tale challenge.
Twas fun to write but I think that Ben may benefit from some therapy!
Cover Photo by Nathan Dumlao at Unsplash.com
Unending Wonder
A sea unending
Shifting countless grains of sand
Inspiring wonder
Thanks to Sue for the inspirational photo. Click here to find out more.
She Used To Worry
She used to worry. Why was she so unhappy? He gave her everything.
Every day his people came. They made sure that every part of her body was taut and sleek and limber. Masseuses and yogis. Stylists and waxers. Doctors and manicurists. Poking and prodding. Smoothing and stretching. Watching.
Then they’d go. And she’d be alone for a few precious minutes. Before he came back.
Every day, he’d stroke her hair and tell her she was beautiful.
But still she was unhappy.
She never told him. He’d been taking care of her since she was fourteen. He would never understand. He’d call her ungrateful. Or do worse.
But still she was unhappy.
She’d become accustomed to the feeling. Wore it like an invisible shield while she smiled at him. But, now.
Now she worried about something else. It had been two years. Something had shifted. She’d heard whispers. His attention was wandering. She could feel it.
What would happen to her? He’d never take her back. But what if he was gone? Then could she go back? She could barely remember their faces. They probably were fine without her. Why would they want her now? Did she even deserve to go home? After everything.
She shut her eyes and gripped the scissors she had stealthily pocketed from the stylist’s tray. He’d be back any moment. She had to stop worrying. She had to decide. So she did.
And for the first time in a long time, she felt happy.
I’ve begun to think I’ve only got a dark side! I blame the current state of the world. I’m actually quite funny IRL! Anyway, thanks to Fandango’s FFFC for today’s dark inspiration.
Tina Stewart Brakebill 