Ela’s Play

I originally wrote the following in response to my dear Ela’s weekly 100 Word photo prompt “PLAY” challenge. I then decided I liked it enough to share with you here as well. 

Please take some time to visit her site, where you will find intellect, soul, wit, and playful word-weaving that becomes even more impressive when you realize that English is her second (or maybe even third or fourth – the girl is insanely intelligent) language. As always, I hope you enjoy.

Daddy…

Why are you shouting so loud daddy?

Mommy’s not deaf, she can hear you, daddy.

Why do you yell at her so, daddy?

Why don’t you stop, and maybe rest awhile daddy?

She didn’t mean what she said daddy.

I’m sure she never wanted to hurt you daddy.

I KNOW she didn’t mean it, daddy, I just do.

I’m sure she still loves you best daddy.

I’m sure she’s only “kissing friends” with him, daddy.

I’m sure she will want you back, one day daddy.

Where are you going daddy?

Can I come too, daddy?

Can I daddy?

Daddy…?

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Now to be fair, today’s song did NOT come to mind until well after I had written these 100 words. That being said, I will STIIL be willing to shamelessly make use of it here and now… 

Have You Ever Had It Blue

Another Friday, another Friday Fictioneers (sorry kids, but I can only submit these when the pictures tell me the story, as this week’s did.) As always, I hope you enjoy what today’s muse whispered into my ear…

Copyright -Anelephantcant

The chain – well, you could hardly call it that, now could you? – Would’ve never been left draped around his neck in days of old. No, back then he was prized, needed, secured.

He remembered the lad who’d rode him, screaming together down blown-out streets to get messages to the front.

God, he loved that boy. So handsome, so gentle, so fast!

The lad had a good eye, failing him only on that day where “Jerry” had hid in the bell tower.

Lying beside his dying love, he wept while his seat slowly absorbed the blood.

A lifetime ago of course, it was now a mere cherished memory as he sat idly – unloved, unneeded, and most decidedly unchained.

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Down So Long…

Recommended by Seablackwithink, I decided upon trying a new 100 Word-style challenge, hosted by Red and known as “Flash In The Pan” (FTP).

Since it’s a new exercise for me, I used the opportunity to go just a hair to the left of my normal comfort zone (the prompt is “Down,” and I opted for an emotional direction instead of a physical one). Please be advised, the following deals with a subject matter that some might find distasteful.

As always, please let me know your thoughts and critiques, and please visit the FTP link above to read more entries.

Welcome to “Flash in the Pan”

Defeated, the ropes dangled from the bedpost. Ignored by the wrists that could not be constrained by them alone.

The lotions, the collar, the paddle – all sat idly nearby, achingly unused. Desolate.

The body, naked and shivering, laid curled up fetal, dead center of the bed. In appearance much more deceased than alive, sans the singular tear, slowly jogging its way down the cheek, to the bridge of an unkissed lip.

Kept from contentment, this had given up on ever being touched in that way again.

Down for so long, the owner of this body hoped for it no more.

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