Tag: word prompt

Flash Fiction, tutto e niente

Their Home

Tina Stewart Brakebill

She sat at the edge of the stream and stared at the house. Their home.

The tumbling water reminded her of a song. She could hear the melody in her head. But the words just wouldn’t come. It’s not fair. Songs are not her department. TV shows and historical facts. But not songs. That’s his lane.

He’s supposed to be here. He would know.

But he’s no longer here. Or there. In that house that was their home.

For just a moment she was overwhelmed by anger. Then frustration. But that stupid song would have to wait.

It was time.

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Photo Credit to Brian Brakebill (who thankfully is still very much with me and continues to inspire me with his photos) 

Inspired by and written for Friday Fictioners and the PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson with some further inspiration from Reena’s Exploration Challenge (home) and Fandango’s FOWC (melody) and Your Daily Word Prompt (overwhelm)

Haiku & Other Poetry, Random Rants, tutto e niente

Consumed

Tina Stewart Brakebill

Burning blue

So hot I am almost translucent

But I want to be …

Unseen

Impalpable

Concealed

Hidden from eyes that watch

Obscured from those that see.

Invisible

Consumed

abstract art burnt color
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Today’s Writing Origin Story:

Procrastinating from the work I am supposed to be doing, I turned to my Word Press Reader. No intentions of blog writing. I have stuff I NEED to do! Deadlines. I’m just taking a short break to read some other people’s stuff. So I’m reading and I see that Sammi Scribbles prompt this weekend is TRANSLUCENT. I love that word. The way it feels in my mouth and mind. But I am NOT writing for my blog today. Things to do!

But …maybe I’ll just see what this weekend’s SoCs prompt is. No harm in that. Oh no. It’s a fun one!

Open a book on your lap, close your eyes, and put your finger on the page. Whatever you land on, whether it be a word, a phrase, or a sentence, write about it. Enjoy!

So–you know, just to see what it would be–I pick up the book on the top of my “to read” pile: Postcards by E. Annie Proulx (recently purchased at a used book store) and point. I land on this sentence: “Jewell was the one afraid of accidents and fire, had seen her father’s barns burn down ….” (page 36 in 1992 paperback version).

And instantly my brain connected translucent and burn and the prose/poem thingy (above) is what emerged. Can’t decide if I like it. Can’t decide if I’m trying to tell myself something! Perhaps it’s connected to my angst over the coming election. I don’t know.

But here it is.

Now. I am going back to work.

Probably.

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