flash fiction: Fire Eyes An Echoes of Elder Times flash fiction


Summer Solstice is just another day to most. Filled with lots of sunlight, warmth and good times. Pull out the barbecue and beer and enjoy the long hours of golden sunlight. Play in that light and soak up the heat, good times are here.

But not too long ago people remembered, people held ceremonies celebrating the day. For it is the turning point of the year. The shortest night of the longest day, meant to get so much living done. There are a few who burn the bonfire, the bone fire still. They burn for the turning, to remind the world that they year will grow darker now. Long ago the fires called us to you but now they simply light up the dark, for few know how to get our attention any longer.

Look closely and you will see my eyes in those fires. Watching and waiting for you to invite us out to play. The summer will be only so long, so go ahead and live those lazy days of play for soon enough you will need to work to stay warm.

With the last golden ray of silken sunshine the torch is thrust into the perfumed wood. You, oh wise one, ignored the others and brought with you fragrant boughs. You brought woods that are not common for this place, Oak and Ash and Thorn, just as the old songs call for. You peeked my curiosity with those pieces of wood and I slid into the fire to watch. I wanted to see if you would notice me, dancing about below in the hottest part of the flames, and you did.

He smoke tasted so good when you leaned in, adding resins to the coals left when the wood burned low. I danced a jig and for a moment you watched me. A simple yet joyful smile built in your eyes and you winked at me before turning to speak to the young being at your side.

You fed the fire the whole night through. Your friends sang songs and drank fine wine but you paid attention to the fire, keeping it hot and bright enough that I felt welcomed once more. Will you gift me once more? Give me a place to play? If you do I will keep your fires burning bright the whole yearlong. For I am Salamander and you have called me from my cold sleep.

Flash fiction: Flowers for Her


The sunflowers drooped as the rain dripped down. The day was gray, overcast and sad, not anything like I had planned. I stood there, staring down, wondering where it all went wrong.

Yesterday she told me to meet her and to bring them with me. That she had something important to tell me, something that would change our lives forever. Well my life has changed, as has hers. Changed forever, in a split second.

She had been waiting for me, that is what they told me. Sitting on the hood of her car, basking in the early morning sunshine, when the truck came over the hill. They tell me the driver had a medical emergency, that there was nothing that could have stopped what happened, but that doesn’t make it any better.

Bending down, I place the sunflowers on that place where we should have met. At the side of the road by the mountain overlook. These flowers were meant for her, and so I leave them here, in her memory.

Flash fiction: The Golden Glow of Home


Standing below the skeleton tree I looked up at the golden glow coming from the window. It had been too long since I left her side, wandering the world in search of my destiny. So many miles of road beneath my feet, yet my path brought me back here, ending up in the place I had started.

It had been winter when I walked away, the world blanketed in soft white that reflected the glow from her window. She had sent me away, angry at my choices. I swore then I would never return. Spring had found me far away, yet my heart harked back to that window, longing curling in my belly for her sweet face.

I fought my way through summer, splashes of red staining the bright green that flowed across fields. Men and boys dying meant less to me than the home I could have had. The song of a single bird echoed with my memories of home.

Fall called me back, the dying of the colors bringing memories of times lost. Finally I came back to where I started, standing here working up the courage to climb those stairs and ask if I could come home.

Flash Fiction: BooHoo doll


When did we become something silly? Big heads and tiny bodies, made out of a ball and some yarn? Really now? Once we were poppets, used by witches to curse people. Then we were voodoo dolls, made to look like a person and take control of them. Now? Now we are cute little things, hanging on key chains or strings attached to book bags. I am so ashamed!

My great uncle ten times removed was used to take down a tyrant and my great great grandma was used to take down a slave owner. Me? Well I get used by a wannabe goth child to make her teacher sick enough to cancel a test. Really? A test! Life is so unfair! I wanted to be used for something great, something important, but no, I get used for a test. What happened to the good old days!

flash fiction: 99 words on traveling through space.


I sit in my cabin watching the stars move by on this ship we call home. The silence of the big deep broken softly by the sounds of laughter in the halls. This ship holds decks of wonder, filled with penguins and dragons and a library as endless as the space we careen through. Few understand the drive of those given to flights of fancy but here I have found laughter and acceptance for my mad way of viewing the worlds that speed past us all. Care to join me in my contemplation of the vastness of the wonder?

Flash fiction: Bury me in a Barrow Mound


I walk slowly forward, my feet dragging in reluctance. Today I have given up, allowed them to place you in your grave. Nothing I could do would bring you back to me. As I watch them heap the stones over your face, I stand like those very stones. You told me you would come back to me, that everything would be all right, but you lied. Nothing is right, will ever be right again. As they build the barrow about your body, the part of me that loved life is buried with you. Tonight, after they all leave, I will join you here, my love. They say that I must let you go, but my heart will not go on. There are enough stones for two.

flash fiction: Operation: Find Peace


Since I am currently out of finished audible files I thought I would just post up some flash fictions for the next few days till I get caught up again. This one was inspired by a photo of a hand holding out seeds to birds.

***

I stand, waiting, seed in my palm. I have done this, day after day, for what seems like weeks now. My prey flutters about me, never quite settling down onto my outstretched hand. Are they afraid of me? I offer no threat, just this collection of seeds that I know they would enjoy. Maybe if I settle down on this wall, try to be as still as a statue, they will come and eat what I offer.

You ask me why I do this? Well, you see I enjoy the little lives that flutter about this cold and tired city. The rush, rush of humanity and the noise from all the mechanical things fill my head so much that I need this attempt at finding peace. Finding nature in the middle of the cold, hard towers of glass and steel is difficult at bet, but I continue my quest. Focusing down, I ignore the cars and buses that pass me by, the people who are chattering away on their cell phones and find that still, quite place deep inside.

As I find my center, I feel a light touch on the tips of my fingers. Slowly, I open one eye and then smile as the first sparrow comes to land, his claws clutching my sleeve for balance. He cocks his head to the side then swiftly darts his beak into the seed resting in my palm. With a happy chirp he calls his friends to the bounty I have offered. A dozen black-capped chickadees flutter toward me now, soft feathers fluttering just loud enough for me to hear them over the sounds of the street.

They chirp and flutter, first one and then the others coming to enjoy the bounty that I have offered to them. The bravest little one settles on my thumb and cocking his head to study me, he talks to me in the language of birds. Sweet sounds that I wish I understood.

Operation successful, peace has been found. I have an oasis of calm in the center of the city, if only for a few moments. As the seed disappears, so do my little friends. The last, the brave one, rubs his head against my thumb in thanks and then flies off into the gray skies, in search of something else. Tomorrow I will return, this time with more seeds and maybe some nuts. I wonder if I can attract the squirrels in the park the same way?

audible drabble: Path of Life


Coming down to the last of the drabbles I have finished up. I am debating whether to do more right away or use this blog for the digital drawing and story that I am putting together. Any comments would help my sweet readers.

Also on a side note, if you are enjoying these videos please go to my Youtube page and like the videos and subscribe to my channel. So far I only have a small handful of followers and it would be nice to catch up with my daughter who seems to have hundreds. Thank you