• 100 word stories,  Fiction,  microfiction

    The Sound of Indecision (3/100)

    CW: suicide/suicidal ideation     Anna’s heart threatened to walk up her throat, but she swallowed it down. Stepping forward, she chided herself for this weakness…the need to look over the edge rather than just jump as she’d so carefully planned. It felt noncommittal. Like a show of fear, when all she wanted was to be courageous about one thing in her life. To take control of something. Even if only the end. Several rocks slipped free around her feet, tumbled down…bounced against boulders, ticking in the measured way of the second hand on a clock. Each one echoed, growing louder as they fell further.     National Suicide Prevention…

  • Erotic Journal Challenge,  Experience,  My EJC Responses

    Soul-sharing

    “Each of us literally chooses, by his way of attending to things, what sort of universe he shall appear to himself to inhabit.” William James   Reality is very much a product of personal experience. How I process events, what I remember, what I forget. And I have a tendency to get lost in a moment, keeping only snippets, feelings, thoughts, smells. This is part of the reason I journal so regularly and write things down. I forget specifics and details. But the ones I do remember, I needle on. I’m a big picture girl, who obsesses about things that often don’t matter, and doesn’t pay enough attention to the…

  • 100 word stories,  Fiction,  microfiction

    Green (2/100)

    Three days into what she thought was the rest of her life, the ring had begun to turn her finger green. And here she sat, on the bathroom floor, with a stick displaying a pink plus sign. The boy in the other room was snoring. Oblivious to the change. But the girl couldn’t be. She was wide awake and breathing. Her mother had once told her everything was a choice or a prison…or both. She pulled his t-shirt over her head, looking down at her naked body, wondering which way she would go. Green had always been her favorite color.     Join in… The 💯 Story Challenge    

  • Erotic Journal Challenge,  Experience,  My EJC Responses

    A Holy Yes

    “Our task it to say a holy yes to the real things of our life.” Natalie Goldberg   We stayed up late talking. About us. And our relationship. And sex. It’s never a good idea, but the truth-serum, courage-inducing, emotion-heightening fog of alcohol and fatigue break down barriers and make us weak. Yes, we know, we’ve got a problem. But there is some good that comes of it sometimes. As long as we’ve held our tongues and said nothing outwardly combative, sometimes we uncover truths that have lain in darkness. In the couch, before bed, He said I don’t make my desires clear…that He wants to know what I want…

  • 100 word stories,  Fiction,  microfiction

    Last Thought (1/100)

    Rowan, just come home. It was the last text she’d received from her mother. Three weeks ago. And now, here, stopped at this interminably long red light, she decided to respond. Ok. Glancing up to check the light, her gut clenched, waiting for the three dots signaling an incoming reply. . . . A honk startled her. She took her foot off the brake, pressed the gas, and lurched forward. She never even saw the bus coming. We can’t wait to see you. Metal crunched as two vehicles merged into one. Within minutes, sirens screamed in the distance. Forgiveness was Rowan’s last thought.     Join in… The 💯 Story…

  • Erotic Journal Challenge,  Experience,  My EJC Responses

    Goodbye January, Hello February!

    This month’s Erotic Journal Challenge prompts have been mainly about laying a foundation. Looking back, planning ahead, deciding what to focus on and what to let go of, what to say yes to and what to say no to. It’s given us an opportunity to define ourselves and consider what we want most. A few people have signed on and are doing some awesome reflections. If you are using the Erotic Journal Challenge in any way that you’d like to share, please feel welcome (but not obligated) to link up on the main EJC page. You can link a category/tag or you can link individual posts, whatever you prefer. You…

  • Flash Fiction Friday

    Flash Fiction Friday #21

    (free image/source: pixabay.com) Prompt 21: Supernatural Or just use this intriguing image to get yourself started. There are so many stories to be told here. The rest of January’s prompts can be found on the main FFF page. February’s will be added this weekend. Go here to read the rules (because, yes…there are just a few etiquette expectations). Then write up your story (no more than 500 words) and share it here (link up to other memes that may fit your writing, as well). Afterward, be sure to read the other entries and comment as the mood strikes. NOTE: It’s perfectly okay to NOT follow the prompt/challenge. If you want…

  • Experience

    The art of my heart ❤️

    (Painting by Andrew Wyeth)   I love a lot of different kinds of art, but I am usually drawn to paintings with color and lots of detail. Something I can get lost in. And likely, this is because it mirrors something in me….or something I seek. I’m drawn to circles, soft edges, warmth. Trees, old barns, and farmhouses. Scenes that make me feel something peaceful, cozy, homey. I don’t particularly like questions in my art…or having to dig too deeply to find its meaning. I like the message just above or below the surface. Being able to interpret it, much like a poem, in my own way. To find its…

  • Poetry

    The Map of the Soul

    Her blue-green pulse flutters beneath rice-paper skin, braided veins, like intersecting highways, connect destinations across the continent of her body. He has traveled every road, knows every spot and scar, has drawn lines to chart his journey. But she is soft, after all these years, pliable and faded. Creases have worn holes at her corners. So he rarely unfolds her anymore. He doesn’t need to, though. He knows every back road, every scenic route, every waterway, every landmark, by heart. She has become the map of his own soul, and, holding her gnarled hand, hearing her whispered breath, he could find his way blind.  

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