Hall of Mirrors (or A Mansplainer’s Just Desserts)

“Well actually…” 

Breathy whistles of calliope music swallowed his words. 

“Come,” a silken voice commanded from the darkness. Swirling, slithering white-gloved hands led him forward. An impuissant marionette, he followed.

Behind him, a closing door’s click ushered a silence so complete his ears ached.

Released, he clawed at slippery surfaces searching for an exit, mocked by grotesque reflections of himself. 


This post was written for the YeahWrite #442 Microprose grid. Click the badge to read and comment on other entries. Don’t forget to vote!

An inconclusive list of things I’ve learned from having a puppy in the house (again)

  1. Tiles are a godsend.
  2. Carpet accidents happen. Despite your best efforts.
  3. Money spent on a good carpet cleaner is never a waste.
  4. Reading instructions and learning the proper use of your carpet cleaner is time well spent.
  5. Puppies (like teens) eat a lot. They will eat pretty much any everything.
  6. Puppies have two speeds; full throttle or fast asleep.
  7. You will walk more than you usually do or care to. You may even run.
  8. The older dog will teach the puppy good habits. And bad ones.
  9. The sound of dogs play-fighting is different from the sound of dogs actually fighting.
  10. Puppies learn rules quickly. They will flaunt them. While looking at you from the corner of their eyes.
  11. Puppies will bring out the gentleness and sweetness in recalcitrant teens.
  12. You will be responsible for the puppy (even though it will “belong” to the nearly-adult child).
  13. You will not mind this responsibility. You always wanted a horde of kids and dogs.
  14. You can teach a puppy to boop noses.
  15. Clever dogs learn quickly. Good behaviour, and bad.
  16. There is intense joy in being greeted at the door by excited dogs.

This post was written for YeahWrite #439 Nonfiction grid. Click the badge to read other entries.

Unearthed

Acacias, adorned in gold, bob heavy heads to a koolbardi’s caroling call. A raven, scratching at freshly turned soil, unearths Marco’s watch. The koolbardi swoops, screeching. A clash of beaks. A storm of feathers.

Silence.

Gingerly, Gina grabs her shovel.


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Inheritance of fear

I watch my four-year-old son spring from rock to boulder — a little mountain goat — giggling with pleasure.

“Don’t fall!” I call, my motherliness rising like bile in my throat.

He doesn’t hear, and keeps climbing — surefooted, confident.

I hope he never hears my anxiety.



This post was written for the YeahWrite #420 Microprose Challenge grid. Click on the badge (above) to read other entries, and to vote. Leave a comment for the writer letting them know what you enjoyed about their work too!

Silky Sidney

She pinched off a piece of the tiny banana between the tips of her fingers and thumb. Sun-ripened and sugary-sweet, it was harvested earlier that morning from one of the many banana plants in her sprawling, verdant, over-planted garden. She mashed it meticulously, breaking up large chunks so there would be no choking hazard. Then she grabbed the ‘baby’, pried open his mouth, and shoved banana inside, scraping her fingers along his teeth to get every last scrap. She tilted his chin up and massaged his throat–there would be no spitting out of pre-triturated banana, no rejection of her love.

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