The rain came, euphoria warm on its breath. It called to her from the kitchen, glistening rivulets winking at her like crystals against the thick glass. And, without a second thought, she dashed outside, bare feet sliding over wet grass, mud squelching between her yellow-painted toes. The rain clapped at her shoulders as the wind… Continue reading Euphoria
Tag: story writing
My Cousin Sunmar
Sunmar was supposed to be a kept secret. Tucked away like a miser’s treasure, safe from prying and greedy eyes. Sunmar was my cousin. My brother, Jeff, and I would always go to Auntie Jackie’s and Uncle Vern’s house for winter break. We knew they had a son, but we’d never been introduced to him.… Continue reading My Cousin Sunmar
Morning Accident
Scalded tongueBurns with curses --Hot coffee Poured down the drainBittersweet swirlsOf wasted pleasureWashed down In vacant streams An angry jerk Of the refrigerator doorBears a cold breathOver flushed cheeksIce cubes crudely culledFrom their deep bedsFor the surly monsterRolling out from its wet cave --Pink and scorched Saliva drips into the sinkThe burn cools She pours… Continue reading Morning Accident
Staying Alive
Rupert’s hand would always go to his pocket when his sensibilities strayed too far beyond the fray. His focus would glaze, amber irises dimming like the telltale signs of life slowly ebbing from a character in a tragic film. He’d rub the things sheltered in his left pocket. Three rubiginous balls. Cold, plastic shells cocooning… Continue reading Staying Alive
What Isn’t
His touch was always like a phantom wind. A zephyr grazing her cheek. As if he was afraid fire would trail his hand and burn her. And he always kept his distance whenever they walked together. Careful that their hands never bumped or brushed together. The subtlety of his avoidance perplexed her. But she would… Continue reading What Isn’t
Morning Rituals
She didn’t like coffee, but the smell reminded her of home. Of early mornings roused from sleep by the chaos unfolding in the kitchen down the hall. Her father had always been late for work, stumbling over his big, socked feet to grab his briefcase while stuffing his shirttail in his pants. She would catch… Continue reading Morning Rituals
Museum – Weekend Writing Prompt #122
There was an old museum set for demolition in a few days. But no-one cared for the history preserved inside. Some thought it should’ve been destroyed a long time ago for its preservation of faces from a generation lost and forgotten to time. It was nothing like viewing the preserved skin and bones of animals.… Continue reading Museum – Weekend Writing Prompt #122
Tinker – Weekend Writing Prompt #119
There were some people who couldn’t leave others alone. Julius had a natural curiosity towards people; he’d wave and smile at them. Strike up random conversations with an enviable disarming prowess that eased any doubt. He tinkered with the trappings that kept them in their shells and drew them out. Naturally, he was popular. But… Continue reading Tinker – Weekend Writing Prompt #119
Unspoken
Cigarette burns on the carpet Your yellow dress— Beautiful the day You first wore it Ugly now Chiffon skirt stained through With wine spills From your sloppy hand The elegance has gone Existing only Within the hushed murmurs Of your drunken talk How you don’t wish to be this way Asking if I hate you… Continue reading Unspoken
Amateur – Weekend Writing Prompt #116
He was clumsy their first night together. Despite bold intentions to make her his, an anxious quiver followed his roaming touch. Their noses bumped awkwardly with each rhythmless kiss. But that virginal ineptitude charmed her into steadying his amateur caress, guiding his touch and body into the fluid intimacy of lovemaking. This prompt took several… Continue reading Amateur – Weekend Writing Prompt #116
