Showing posts with label flash friday 55. Show all posts
Showing posts with label flash friday 55. Show all posts

Friday, May 18, 2018

The Cave


Today's muse: Verse Escape: Friday 55

* * *

The Cave

She told no one. After all, who would believe it?

But she knew the truth that lived alone in her shattered soul. Truth that clawed for release from the darkness he cultivated to keep it hidden, barricaded from salvation.

In the shadows of her padded cave, she spirals down, chanting her mantra.

Stop. Stop. Stop.

Friday, April 13, 2018

Wendigo


Today's muse: Verse Escape: Friday 55

* * *

Wendigo

Pale skin shimmers like moonlight.

She cannot see. He has made sure of that. She wears nothing but silk ropes that hold her in place; hold her open.

But she hears. Hears his breathing. Hears the swish of his belt released from his pants.

She knows what is next. And she waits. And she wants.

Monday, January 15, 2018

Eyes Closed


Today's muse: Verse Escape: Friday 55

* * *

Eyes Closed

Eyes closed to hide sorrow or, perhaps, to withdraw from harsh reality.

No matter.

Either way, peace at last. Away from intrusive questions, awkward gazes. Pitiful murmurs.

The light is not so bright here. Rather, it surrounds in a candlelight glow, a warm embrace.

The gentle rocking soothes and comforts, wraps me in eternal sleep.

Thursday, August 18, 2011

Town Crier



Today's muse: Friday Flash 55

The rules: Write a story in 55 words. No more. No less.

And I liked the picture prompt he used, so I used it as well.




* * *

Town Crier

“That lavender lace wrap.” Jeremy Wilkinson’s tone was bland, as though he asked for a dozen penny nails.

To her credit, Mrs. Shaefer remained stone-faced as she wrapped the silk in delicate tissue. She knew perfectly well he wasn’t buying it for his wife.

The door hadn’t yet closed before she was whispering the tale.


Friday, August 5, 2011

Surprise



Today's muse: Friday Flash 55

Write a story in 55 words. No more. No less.

* * *

Surprise

“I have something special for you.”

Lips like butterflies brush her ear. Sara bites back a moan. She wants him. God she wants him.

He brushes a thumb against the nub that strains against her thin tee. “Wait here,” he whispers, stepping away.

Sara nods, keeps her eyes closed until the door closes behind him.