Wednesday, September 17, 2014

Yellow Brick Fail




For the Five Sentence Fiction Challenge. This weeks word was grief.

Yellow Brick Fail

Each wicked little bird took a piece, peck, peck, pecking away until all that was left was her fleshy container and streaming tears of long heart hurt.
She felt each beak as it tore through the meat of her resolve, her boundaries, her self esteem, her yearning, yet still she walked expecting a buffed up Tin Man to save her.
A serious minded Scarecrow would have been talk therapy company, but none were to be found, nor was there any 'roid rage Lion around to beat the intruders and their reminders of pain into bloody spots on the forest floor.
She had stepped off her yellow brick road in search of...something unseen but felt, only to find herself in a rotten apple forest populated by sorrow grown large by lack of trust and sharing, pecked to pieces by birds named Regret and Loss.
In her head she knew even the Wizard would not be able to give back the Emerald Palace of her dreams, so she trudged on along the crumbling, yellow route in shoes stained dark with shed blood longing.
                                                                 
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Wednesday, September 10, 2014

Her Darkness

Latest contribution to the "Five Sentence Fiction Challenge". This weeks word was Darkness.
Find the site here: http://lilliemcferrin.com/five-sentence-fiction-darkness/

Her Darkness

Her darkness had wings the color of the backside of the rainbow,  but she was made to keep their flight feathers clipped, for soaring on currents of desire was frowned upon.

She had been made afraid of the power that overwhelmed her with the scent of ripe cherries and cinnamon, making of itself an aphrodisiac that ruptured her Soul.

A good girl did not have these thoughts, feelings, nor was she marked by the intoxicating possibility of actions bound by future regret and criticism.

Her other half, un-redeemed and lost in its denial, sneaked peeks every black moon into a shoebox at the back of the closet where her passions and dreams fluttered on the ends of short, golden chains.

Far better, said they, to abide safe and secure in non-censure, flightless and dressed by the Tribe, trained by Peers to attract the Perfect Mate, for was that not her place in the world...to replicate?