Monthly Archives: March 2016

Moments Before…

quiet scrabble.jpg

Entry to this week’s 3LineTales! Image courtesy of Moritz Schmidt.

The blind saw the light: Eyes-see-stars. Five filled bars.

The deaf heard the quiet: Heart-beat-pound. Skip no sound.

The mute spoke the word: Lips-shush-babel. Spell then scrabble.

The Search


Entry to this week’s FFfAW! Image courtesy of S. Writing!

Once there was calf who lost his belle in a vast field of flowers. He searched day and night, traversing the meadows and painting lines into the ground for his love to see. Giant circles he drew; spirals and constellations he wrote along the slopes of the Great Plains with highest of hopes. Yet by month’s end, his belle was still nowhere to be found. Exasperated and now sullen, he lay down and fell into a deep slumber. Spring turned summer turned fall before he woke. Opening his eyes, he saw now only a single patch of flowers jutting out in the distance. Moving closer, he realized it was none other than his beloved whom the flowers cover and the same patch that had concealed him.

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Two Fronts


Entry to this week’s Sunday Photo Fiction!

Two fronts by the sea.
From East and West they came.
Calm as a breeze. Light as a tease.
One day they meet.

A tickle at first.
A spark here and there.
But enough to ignite. Drew fate’s sight.
Potential made fright.

Day turned night, and night lit day.
Lightning strikes and thunder quakes.
Till morning comes and blue skies wake.
Two fronts met and left no trace.

The Flash


Entry to this week’s 3LineTales! Image courtesy of Samuel Zeller.

The people have spoken (they were not heard). They demand payment (not a cent spurred).

Ninety-nine percent (bailed out the 1). Occupying the streets (a failure to stun).

Till one day by the hill (Capitol Hill).  A bright flash sent a chill (Nuclear Chill). The world changed forever after.

The Way Forward


Entry to this week’s FFfAW! Image courtesy of The Storyteller’s Abode.

Cain stood at the edge of the world. Behind him lay the universe he built. Cycles upon cycles he had folded; iterations beyond what mortal and immortal memory could recall. In front lay the white, a domain he cannot fathom for the black shields him from sight. But now his world is failing; temples crumble into ruins, honoring gods once alive but now dead.

Taking off the mask, a shadow is cast and two steps he takes.  His right launches him forward, disintegrating the ground beneath and crippling one half of his body. A necessary sacrifice he felt for it would allow the other half to survive. His left stabilizes his flight as he braces for an impact that may never come.


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The Bluff


Entry to this week’s Sunday Photo Fictioners! Off to rewatch the pirates trilogy now!

“But no one approaches The Lagoon by broadside. Four tiers of guns, two hundred in all. Furnishes holes in both ships and coastlines. It is suicide!”

“She’s a formidable Galley. Fended off five sloops one time and they were no small fish. Now I hear rumors of Spanish gold. A quarter of the King’s vault emptied.”

“A quarter! And you suppose she’s fetching the full haul. What a mighty weight to bear!“

“Too much weight me thinks… Less she plans the crew to push. Would probably still see port by day’s end.”

“How much did she shed? A hundred tons? Two hundred?”

“More. Probably had to toss the essentials. Food, water, and … guns.”

“Guns? We counted the two hundred this eventide.”

“Aye, guns for show. Who points a gun in both rain and shine?”



Entry to this week’s 3LineTales! Image courtesy of Glen Noble.

Numberless book, scattered between stacks. Your name, you hardly remember.

Printed but discarded, lost to archives. Decades you wait, in dark no sight.

Till Gutenberg takes you, white light and all. The internet has found you, a thousand eyes crawl.