A Noble Hero I wake in Spring dawn, curl on rough places, wait for needs that put me to work. Imbued patience is in my demeanor, prime for left turns. Unlike my vinyl ancestors, I shrink in humble elastic disuse. Fitted properly and connected to supply surprises my users as it surges through me. I…
Category: Friday Fictioneers
#FF — The Answer, My Friend
The Answer, My Friend Susie curls up in her Snuggly, sipping hot cocoa. Zel curls at her feet on the couch. Who knew a cat could snore so loudly! Susie glances at the clock: three a.m. Even with work early in the morning, she flips channels, fixed on live broadcasts’ numbers rolling in. Percentages climb…
#FF — Why?
Why? Starlight makes it possible. I wouldn’t be here, bleeding on the beach otherwise. Falling on one’s sword isn’t as easy as it looks. It goes through my side and misses everything but too many desserts. Starlight’s mercy gives me signal way out here. Grants me “911” before I pass out to the tangy smell…
#FF — If Thine Eyes… (disturbing content warning: may be triggering for some)
If Thine Eyes… Ronnie’s feet tremble twice a day. A year ago… Ronnie refuses to listen, to see; to feel. But God won’t leave him alone. Some consider relentless harassment of the senses as torture. God doesn’t care; insists, 24/7. Knitting needles in his ears make him pass out. Lye in his eyes hurts like…
#FF — Meticulous
Meticulous Henry keeps things exactly where they were when Marijo was still at home. Henry is not a neat person by nature, but he honors her this way. Marijo nursed their five children through fevers, stomach problems, rashes, and much more. It was her meticulous care that ensured they survived each calamity and reached adulthood….
#FF — The Sinner
The Sinner I know perps always return to the scene of the crime. So why am I going back, knowing I could be seen? The anniversary is approaching. It’s busy with gill nets in certain seasons; this isn’t one of them. Only drunk and homeless frequent its cold shelter now, and they never talk. I…
#FF — Invitations
Invitations Fortification bricks are placed, mortared with blood, over decades. A sprawling structure, it’s sectioned into rooms, floors, cellars, and turrets. Each space has its purpose. I travel freely throughout its memories. Those regarding it will never see all of its exterior. Few will be invited in. One summer morning, while writing a poem to…
