#writephoto – Subsea

Her messy bun held. Just. But trailing plaits swung like pendulums impending doom. The pair helped balance her as she tried to bear the weight of the hydria. Sun warmed water sloshed from its brim, making her sandals slippery and her path more difficult.

Her nimble frame, encumbered, but still nimble enough to weave through sailors unloading ships, stall owners shouting for custom, and other serving girls like her cargo-ing the morning water. Or maybe the furrow of Athenians just had little desire to get tangled within the mess they sensed she would make.

Visages of a large broken urn being their responsibility or their goods soaked to useless steered them from her path. However she could see little through the handle and did not notice her path taking turns she had not planned, taking her closer to the water’s lapping edge than the road home.

All it took was the unfamiliarity of the stone and the slip of soaking sandals to topple her and her guest into the blue. Cold hard waves broke her fall where the sun had not yet warmed it, and as she bobbed on the surface, despair seeping into her bones, her master’s hydria began to sink. She’d managed to earn some fish a new home, and herself a week of pain she could not begin to imagine.


Written for the #writephoto prompt linked here, photo below.

Twiglet #236 | The Last Word

I always had to have the last word
To feel I’d won the fight.

You always let me have the last word
Because you cared more about us than winning.

Thank you for all your losses so we could win and weather
The storm I was the eye of
That we still suffered together.

I now see
It’s not you vs me
It’s us vs anything life attempts to make us hurdle
I’m ready to take one, two, three for the team
And let you win
And if I have learnt a goddamn thing
It won’t feel like I lose
But that we just sail out
Onto calm waters
Our hands gripped tighter
than they were before.

Prompt from The Twiglets

Friday Fictioneers | Blurred Lines

“Blurred lines. How do you know where the boundaries are if they act in so many ways?”

“You could just ask?”

Story written using the above photo prompt for the Friday Fictioneers challenge by Rochelle.

I immediately saw the blurry lines in this image and thought of the song. I wanted to write about it but as I felt what I wrote (albeit super flash fiction) was enough to get across the point I wanted to make.

Friday Fictioneers | Peel My Skin

My skin peels away from flesh, my flesh from milky marrow, leaving nothing but my naked soul exposed for all to judge. I step out, beaming spotlight of raw sun highlights the pockmarks seared in from hate and anger. Without my shield my anger has melted, without my comfort blanket of body I can ask truly for forgiveness. “Please. Forgive me.” The limp lips of their lifeless face cannot. It is up to me to forgive myself. But if I repeatedly forgive myself, will I ever stop?

Story written using the above photo prompt for the Friday Fictioneers challenge by Rochelle.

Weekend Writing Prompt | Galaxy

Stellar remnants
Drawn together
More than a want but a science
A rule of life.

In dust left behind
A joy and sadness of breath that may or may not be
Galaxius juice feeds newborn minds
Building foundations of hope, experience.

On our Little Rock what do we do?
But throw away that hope
Slice that joy with division
In the bubble of small communities we achieve peace
But we don’t accept from the outside in.

If we can’t love our neighbour,
What hope do we have for those a galaxy away?
Prompt

Crimson’s Creative Challenge | I Survived

I Survived.

Torrents invaded 
But here I still stand
If anything
Nourished
By the unexpected
Ferocious flow
Of tears through this land.

I’d like this to be
an example
to all the other islands out there
That no matter your stature
(And although life isn’t fair)
That you can keep going
And live
To tell tales to the young
Of how you not only survived,
But thrived,
Grew,
And won.
Written for Crispina’s Creative Challenge

Friday Fictioneers | “I feel personally victimised”

All it took was for me to brush past him, his T-shirt rudely commanding. “Just do it.” it ordered me. I felt personally attacked. How did he, let alone his clothing, know what was crowding my mind. And how dare it be so frank to a total stranger. I continued through the hustle, the bustle. Anger. Which dissolved. Into determination. I turned back and marched straight up to the audacity that had attacked me.

“I will do it!” I announced, more to the T-shirt than the wearer. And then I walked away, leaving bemusement, and my self doubt, behind me.

Story written using the above photo prompt for the Friday Fictioneers challenge by Rochelle.

I don’t know how but I wrote this raw, and it happened to be exactly 100 words!

A to Z Challenge | Z

I’ve made it! To the end of April! Writing every prompt day! I’m so proud of myself. ☺️ Think I might give myself a lil break in May, stay tuned. 💛

The Words

“Zenith: Originating from Arabic and meaning the way over one’s head, by the 1300s zenith was used to describe the highest point in the heavens and by the 1600s it had come to include other high points. Nowadays it is used to describe reaching the top of one’s career. When she played Desdemona she realized that she had reached the zenith of her theatrical aspirations.

“Zephyr: Zephyr, a gentle breeze from the west, derives its name from Zephyrus, the Greek god of the west wind, and was used by both Chaucer and Shakespeare in a figurative and metaphorical sense. More recently, zephyr has been adopted as a term for a lightweight fabric and the clothing made from it.”

(from “1000 Words to Expand Your Vocabulary” by Joseph Piercy)

“Zaftig | Borrowed into English from Yiddish (and descended from a German wordmeaning “juicy”), if a woman is zaftig then she’s plump or curvaceous.” Mentalfloss

Haiku | Ripe Summer

Zenith of summer
Zephyr carries sweet scent of
Zaftig peaches ripe

A to Z Challenge | Y

The Words

“Yammer: Derived from the Old English geomrian, to be sad, and subsequently Middle English yameren, yammer has been used since the fifteenth century to describe repeated cries of distress or sorrow. It also means to complain or whine persistently. The children yammered because the internet had gone down and they couldn’t watch their favourite show on Netflix.”

“Yawp: Yawp, meaning to call out, yelp or to boast, first appeared in the English language in the fourteenth century and is derived from the Middle English yolpen or yelpen. It implies a squawking, yelping, rather irritating type of complaining, but has an element of silliness as it also means raucous noise. If you desist from yawping about it you may be able to think of a solution to the predicament.”

(from “1000 Words to Expand Your Vocabulary” by Joseph Piercy)

“yesternight
Archaic.n.1. last night.adv.2. during last night.” The Free Dictionary

Yesternight

Yesternight
The moon was bright
Loud yammers
Yawps
From dark alleys
Not quite right.

Yet we ignore
Because we have fright
That if we fight
We might join the plight.

So we stay
Still
Silent
Breathe in
Hold tight.