Briefly… My Last 100 Words

Is this my last post? I can’t really tell, but I do know that I couldn’t leave without visiting – at least just once more – the beautiful skies of our 100 Word Song:

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M’desk is standing-height. I wanna crawl underneath it, to hide from Him.

I wanna crawl underneath, but it’s too high, providin’ no space small enough to feel safe.

I wanna crawl underneath, despite His sayin’ that everything’s finally becoming as it shoulda always been… as it never coulda been till now.

I crave to crawl underneath, as His reassurances only cause to pain me more.

My wings’re becoming unbound. Stretchin’, flexin’, impatient to be tried. Not on m’own account, but simply cuz the time is Now.

I wanna crawl underneath. But doing so’s pointless, tain’t nothing can hamper my Flight now…

•••

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Living Our Dream

Second week in a row for my 100 Word Song and Light And Shade mash-up. They both had a very similar spirit, and I hope I was able to capture it correctly…

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Shrugging the tuxedo jacket on gingerly, Val noticed the smallest of sections was threadbare. None would notice, but this coming-out party was important for Pat, and Val felt everything should be perfect.

Pat didn’t care though, and remained delighted that they’d been able to even find Val a vintage suit correctly sized. Smiling while pulling stockings over freshly-painted nails, Pat decided that optimism was the magnet to pull them through this night, this life, together.

Opening the car door for her – as gentlemen do – Pat waited until Val buckled, before anxiously closing it. Tonight was to be special, and he couldn’t wait to start.

•••

Light & Shade Challenge:

Optimism is like a spiritual magnet 

– Anna Massey

100 Word Song Prompt:

A One-way Conversation

A smattering of a truncated thought. A portion of a one-way conversation, held in 100 words or less. The last remnant of a topic that no longer needs be discussed, here or elsewhere. Inspired by a reality more surreal than fiction, my latest prompt mash-up – this one being between 100 Word Song and Light and Shade Challenge.

As always, I hope you enjoy… 

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“I’ll always love you.”

A white lie, one eventually bloomed to black.

“Whatever. You never listened to me.”

Listened? My very life was a response to your words.

“I wanted you to be free.”

Than why’d you cage me?

“Shut. Your. Mouth! Without me, you’d have crashed.”

With you, I did.

“I’m doing this for you.”

More white lies, a wedding cake’s full.

“I know you’re ‘unhappy…’”

This isn’t going to make me so.

I know you’re gay!

It wasn’t me who left our marriage-bed for another man.

“Whatever. I’ll always love you.”

A white lie. One no longer worth holding true.

•••

Light And Shade Prompt:

She tells enough white lies to ice a wedding cake – Margot Asquith

100 Word Song Prompt:

Briefly…

Whether she’s realized it or not, Tori has always been there for me during my darkest hours. Not necessarily doing anything to pull me out of the gloom per say, but there for me none the less.

Similarly, the 100 Word Song family has seen me through some pretty tough times as well. So, when I realized that they had joined forces this week, I decided to come out of my flash fiction song prompt hibernation, and play along.

It’s good to be back 100 Word Songers – I hope you enjoy…

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It happened again.

I dreamt of being loved… of being cherished.

Of all the dreams, these are the worst. Of all the nightmares, the frights, these are the ones that cripple my nights.

Unlike reality, in the dream she stayed. She meant it. She didn’t have others.

Unlike reality, there weren’t arguments, nor struggles, nor threats of flight.

Unlike reality, she was still breathing when I awoke.

I awoke to the guards calling my name, ushering me distractedly from general population back into solitary.

They think I’m alone in there, but those damned dreams can follow through.

Those damned dreams always do.

•••

Trifecta 99: Trifecta 1st attempt

Bacall would’ve been proud, Gabriella thought, while wiping the make-up muddled blood from her lip.

Hell, Gabriella was proud, but not because she’d gone down swinging; and definitely not because they decided to kick the “fag outta him,” in the first.

No, she was proud because with every return blow dealt, she felt her conviction rising – her belief in her true nature, becoming real.

She knew now who she was. She believed in whom that person would someday be.

As Gabe gazed into the mirror, Gabriella smirked back at him, filled with newfound life.

Yeah… Bacall would’ve been proud.

•••

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This is my unintended return to the land of Blogsville, and my first-ever attempt at banging out a couple of words (99 to be exact) for kids over at the Trifecta Writing Challenge. Having no intention of doing so, when I saw that the word “Bacall” was available for use as a prompt, I decided to finally swallow my fears and jump onboard with the continuation of my little tale of GabriellaHaving a shot at the $99 Gift Card didn’t hurt either, but this blog is ALL ABOUT THE ART, people…!

I hope you click through the Gabriella link to read the previous installment, I hope you join in the challenge yourselves, and as always, I do hope you enjoy.

Briefly…

The words I want to write, I shouldn’t. So the words I want to write, I won’t. But the words I want to write, are the only words available just now in my little head, and they steadfastly refuse to allow any new visitors to come in until they’ve had their say.

And that, my friends, leaves me in a bit of a pickle.

Now mind you, I normally quite like pickles, especially if their refrigerated and crispy-dill (mmmmm, pickles…), but in this instance, I am none to fond. Honestly, I feel as if writers block is an easier ailment, as it is with that, then at least you know that there is nothing to say. A mental ghost town so to speak, where normally words and ideas are busily bustling about their day.

So whatever this thing is called (literate-logjam? post-pickled?), I was very glad when Leeroy came along with a 100 Word Song that I could have some fun with. While not a particularly huge fan of The Cure, this choice provides plenty of play space, and we even get to break with the 100 Word Rule (for this week only…!) and use a “wrong number” word count instead.

All good signs, so I’m going off on a bit of a diversionary and unbeaten path for a spell here, hoping that in doing so, I – as RuPaul has so famously said – “don’t fuck it up.”

Here is this week’s 100 Word Song.

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“Is there room in your life for one more trip to the moon?”

What?

I said…

No, I heard you. What did you mean by that?

Oh, nothing.

I was just wondering if that was what he sang just now, and if so, what it meant…

Got me.

Got me too.

Hey, do most of our conversations go like this?

They totally do.

They do.

I like that, though.

I do too.

So, what do you think it means?

That we talk like this?

No Silly! The lyric!

Umm, I’m thinking that it means he wants to go to the moon again with you.

Would you?

Would I go?

Yeah.

Maybe not with him, but sure. There’s always room for another trip.

That was pretty cool, what you did just there.

Bringing the conversation full circle.

Yeah, I know. I do “pretty cool” all the time.

•••

Briefly…

Oh daddy, you soooo can NOT dance.

‘Ey mate. Nice dancin’ out there.

Yes I can, sweetheart.

Hey, thanks.

Umm, no. No you cannot.

‘Ad the girls really goin’!

But check out my…

Yeah, right…

Don’t you even!

No, really! Kept it lively, fun.

You do know, it was I who taught you how to dance.

You can only attack life in joy, or as a chore, right? I chose the former.

Well maybe, but that was a long time ago!

Well it was great.

And…?

I had fun, thanks.

And you’re too old now!

Neva’ too old not too, right?

•••

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Two separate conversations, intertwined. The first between my daughter and me, the second between Australian pop star Cody Simpson and the self same me again.

While the first chat could happen on almost any given occasion, its counterpart resulted from my recent need of part time employment to supplement my income (or as I like to call it, “Career, Pt. 2”). This brought me in contact with Mr. Simpson, as the soul barrier between him and 500 screaming ‘tweens – armed only with safety scissors and a smile. My control of these jibbering masses, through dancing about and joking with them, was noticed and remarked upon by Cody and his handlers, and it was their comments in general that formed the (mostly) fictional chat I had with him above.

Fortunately for some (and sadly for others I suppose), Deb did not choose any Cody tunes for the 100 Word Song prompt this week (click the link! Play along!), so we’ll be listening to One Republic’s “Counting Stars” instead.

Peace. Rest in it, Mr. Elmore Leonard.