Posts Tagged ‘trees’

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This prompt brought forth a story many of you have already read. It was placed into Madison Woods’ Anthology and selected as the Editor’s Pick. If you are unfamiliar with the publication here is the link:

http://www.amazon.com/1-x-50-100-ebook/dp/B00GU57UWA

I remember writing this story very specifically. My family and I had just finished with a research trip disguised as a vacation to Maine. So beautiful. I was typing notes into my laptop while sipping a thick cup of coffee on my couch. I flipped over to see the prompt for the week and this story fell on me like an avalanche.

So I say thank you to MadisonWoods for all her work.

She passed the torch to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields to whom I’d also like to say thank you for all her work and organization. You can visit her site and read through the other Flash Fiction postings at:

http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2014/06/25/27-june-2014-summer-rerun-ii/

For those who are new, Rochelle shares a photo prompt to which several #FridayFictioneers will compose a 100-word flash of fiction. Come and play, damnit.

Here is my contribution:

Lover’s Knotty Tree

Seamus gouged letters into the body of the behemoth, his blade old but capable, swiped from the tool shed. Digging, twisting, he outlined with a heart, deepened the grooves, declared his love for Ginny.

He whistled.

He smiled.

He whittled away.

The outstretched arms above shivered as if capturing some invisible breath. Seamus, still working his knife, peered upward.  Leaves spiraled.

Seamus’ world trembled.

The tree groaned, arose, a bleeding heart pulsing on the sleeve of bark. Dirt and rocks flung high, roots poised like octopus tentacles.

A hush.

Seamus stumbled, fell. The giant pounced.

Horrid shrieks echoed through the woodlands.

jKb

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Thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for all her work and organization. You can visit her site and read through the other Flash Fiction postings at:

http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2014/03/25/28-march-2014/

For those who are new, Rochelle shares a photo prompt to which several #FridayFictioneers compose a 100-word flash of fiction. Come, then come again.

Here’s my contribution:

The Lamb

The breeze was laced with damp earth and moldering leaves, the perfumes of early Spring flowers promised new beginnings, laughter chimed as the children played in the warmth of the sun, and Michael looked beyond the soft grass to the edge of the park and saw her standing beside an awakening Maple. She wore a thin dress, her shoulders bare and fresh. She smiled and raised a beckoning hand, then turned and entered into the woodland, giving provocative glances back, lifting her hem, revealing her want, her need. Michael left all behind. He followed.

Deeper she drew.

Deeper he came.

jKb

 

FFF PROMPT Tree on Car copyright-roger-bultot

Thank you to Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for all her work and organization. You can visit her site and read through the other Flash Fiction Friday postings at:

http://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2013/08/14/16-august-2013/

For those who are new, Rochelle shares a photo prompt to which several #FridayFictioneers compose a 100-word flash of fiction. Come, let us hold hands and tell stories, and share in the wrath of a child.

Here’s my contribution:

Her Name Is Jane

A plastic bag twirled across the unusually quiet Main Street riding a hot and sticky summer gust.

She’s a prima ballerina, isn’t she?” asked the child dangling bare legs over the side of the courthouse steps. In another voice she began to make the nappy, stuffed zebra sitting beside her respond but her happy place was dissolving; the ballerina had become snagged on one of the proud trees which lined the street.

This interruption angered the child and she shrieked.

Stop it!”

The tree was plucked and flung and in the commotion the zebra toppled off the ledge.

Zigzag, No!”

jKb

ShannonOldroyd Orange Skies Of New Jersey

What is the purpose of your art?

Time to share.

A friend from years past made a social media posting that essentially stated ‘The first five people who respond to this post will receive a free piece of my art.’ I was instantly struck by her generosity. The gist was that the recipients should then bare the responsibility to pay it forward, and so on.

The great ripple effect had begin.

My problem was I wasn’t one of the five. Story of my life. I responded anyway. I mean, why not? I risked nothing in doing so. In fact, by even giving my response I was letting her know her reach and influence was broader than she anticipated. She soon responded back that I too could participate.

That was a few weeks ago, the pact was nearly forgotten, until I heard the sound of dogs barking, which is the sound that accompanies the approaching mailman each day. Wise as he is, he walks the neighborhood with a pocket full of dog treats.

Who knew this day would not be like each other? It sounded very much the same.

Hanging from the mouth of the mailbox just outside my front door was a special delivery. Enclosed inside the cushioned mailer pouch was a 3 inch square painted canvas mounted on a wooden frame and, something from a lost era, a handwritten note. These blessings arrived yesterday.

I am completely moved by the thought, the effort, the freely shared energy, the connection.

Being who I am and having the limited gifts that I do, I was motivated to write a flash of fiction based on her art, and then share with all of you and invite you to perhaps continue her experiment in some fashion.

In a complete abuse of the #FridayFictioneers I’ve tagged and linked (and hope Rochelle appreciates and understands; the story does however fit with this weeks prompt) so that you all might take this gem and toss your own art-sharing-pebble.

After all, what are we striving for anyway?

The copyright on this art belongs to S.O.

So, here we go. My contribution:

Where The Crow Roosts

Soft footfalls upon layered molderings, careless boney whispers between leafless trees, these the witnesses to the broken man’s burden as he trudged, ever onward, driven by a need for simple answers, for self discovery and a truth of his own, or perhaps for something broader, more absolute.

And a key; not something crafted of iron, but an understanding.

A rusted throaty utterance halted his progression, interrupted his brooding. Refocused, he immediately recalled this place and what he had done. And as an iridescent form settled among the boughs above, he understood this place would hold importance for him yet again.

jKb



Thank you again to MadisonWoods for all her work and organization. You can visit her site and read through the other Flash Fiction Friday postings at:

http://madison-woods.com/index-of-stories/082412-2/

For those who are new, MadisonWoods shares a photo prompt to which several #FridayFictioneers will compose a 100-word flash of fiction. Come. Would you like a piece of candy? How about a nice balloon?

Today’s installment:

To Decide

Nailed to the town center post was a stretched vellum bearing proper seal and ink. Rose came upon the misty square at first light while bringing eggs for the market. She paused at the notice, lips slowly shaping words, her palm mindfully caressing her protruding belly as she read a second time with narrower eyes. Her grasp weakened, mouth slackened. The woven basket slid then crashed to the ground. Another government decree, this time declaring only one child per marriage, effective immediately. The most chilling word printed in boldest red stated ‘Retroactive’.

Oopsy daisy, mommy. You had an askident.”

jKb



Finally finished with my travels (a vacation disguised as a research trip) and I must say, if you haven’t ventured to Maine, do it. Now. And support your local farmers and fishermen, but I digress.

Thank you again to MadisonWoods for all her work and organization. You can visit her site and read through the other Flash Fiction Friday postings at:

http://madison-woods.com/index-of-stories/081712-2/

For those who are new, MadisonWoods shares a photo prompt to which several #FridayFictioneers will compose a 100-word flash of fiction. Come and play, damnit.

Here is my contribution:

Lover’s Knotty Tree

Seamus gouged letters into the body of the behemoth, his blade old but capable, swiped from the tool shed. Digging, twisting, he outlined with a heart, deepened the grooves, declared his love for Ginny.

He whistled.

He smiled.

He whittled away.

The outstretched arms above shivered as if capturing some invisible breath. Seamus, still working his knife, peered upward.  Leaves spiraled.

Seamus’ world trembled.

The tree groaned, arose, a bleeding heart pulsing on the sleeve of bark. Dirt and rocks flung high, roots poised like octopus tentacles.

A hush.

Seamus stumbled, fell. The giant pounced.

Horrid shrieks echoed through the woodlands.


Thank you again to MadisonWoods for all her work and organization. You can visit her site and read through the other Flash Fiction Friday postings at:

http://madison-woods.com/

For those who are new, MadisonWoods shares a photo prompt to which several #FridayFictioneers will compose a 100-word flash of fiction. Settle upon this wicked wind and stay a while, won’t you?

Here is my contribution:

harbinger

as does the Monarch from flower to flower flutter,

spreading gentle caresses,

lapping sweet nectar,

unfolding delicate petals,

drinking her coming pollen,

such lovely succulence,

such glorious intoxication,

so does the harbinger from flesh to ripening flesh venture,

tantalized by noxious perfumes,

indulging upon sweetest necrosis,

shearing pleasures,

tearing delights.

glutted in the undoing yet not sated,

she rises from death’s bed,

from such rapturous ecstasy,

to dry her quills.

she shrills her victor’s song,

sagely remaining vigilant,

such magnificent poise,

awaiting the devouring of another lover.

jKb



Thank you again to MadisonWoods for all her work and organization. You can visit her site and read through the other Flash Fiction Friday postings as  http://madison-woods.com/flash-fiction/damsel-fly/

Please note, that’s a new website for MadisonWoods.

For those who are new, MadisonWoods shares a photo prompt to which several #FridayFictioneers will compose a 100-word flash of fiction. Get on your horse and ride!

Here is my contribution:

Shearing Placid

Austin struck a match and drew breath. The hand-rolled cannabis tip glowed. “Nothin’ betta.” He chuffed then offered to Samuel who was soaking in the pleasantly burbling brook.

How’d ya find this place? Ain’t on the map.”

Nope. Came across the fence while jacking deer; had a sign said ‘Do Not Enter,’ so I killed it and climbed over.”

Taylor’s land, you think?”

Nah. Probably government. Fence goes miles.”

A shimmering dragonfly scissored along, settled upon a tumbled rock, gossamer wings shearing placid stillness, mesmerizing Samuel.

Look there.”

Another.

Then, several more.

Too many.

jKb



Finding Way

Paths selected in favor of the more passable.

I clutch these choices to my breast, they cannot be stripped.

Whether worse or better, I claim thee, mine alone.

I own nothing if not my choices,

Or, they own me.

I cherish, I honor, I love, in my way.

But, I am tempted, and I am weak.

I am human, still.

Confident and capable, just not so as they believe.

Once I wished, in earnest prayer to be.

No longer.

I have my choices, my decisions.

And here, this lane.

For me, not them.

And then something else.

My match met, we know.

My stride broken, pride taken, I think.

Or simply given away?

Mistakes made, we were not mistaken.

Nothing to regret.

Was true, all, fierce indeed, and unknown in this pass before,

and Is Love.

Suffered yet, I died, and, I lived.

Upon this mirror I witness a slower and different being.

Persisting here, but not alone.

Feeling here, I am unwhole.

But I am no longer worse.

I am finding way.

jKb

Thank you again to MadisonWoods for all her work and organization. You can visit her site and read through the other Flash Fiction Friday postings at http://madisonwoods.wordpress.com/flash-fiction/pathways/

For those who are new, MadisonWoods shares a photo prompt to which several #FridayFictioneers will compose a 100-word flash of fiction. It’s great fun and an excellent exercise for organizing thoughts and improving word choice. Give it a go.

This week, as my eyes glazed over, I contemplated the prompt. In the distance came something familiar, ‘and now you’re just somebody that I used to know — somebody.’ Then, like a virus, this thought infected my mind:

Letting Go

“Follow the white trail.”

This, a weekend adventure into Appalachia before school resumed. Backpacks strapped, boots laced, they plodded along a remote path terminating atop a fifty-foot cascade. All Justin’s idea, yet Damon led, as he always did. Justin followed, as he always had.

“It’s beautiful,” said Damon.

“See the pool below?”

“Where?”

“Look from here.” Justin’s supportive hand grasped Damon’s as he stretched past the edge peering down.

No slippage, just an opening release.

“Good-bye, friend.”

Arms whirled beyond reach.

Below, listless lips muttered wordlessly as life’s light abandoned languid eyes opaquing in summerly laze.

jKb