My Bible, with marginal notes, The Holy Spirit, Leading and speaking. I am the scribe like those from the past Who wrote the scrolls Transcribed to where my notes now lay.
Bats in the Belfry, Hanging and waiting for the bells to chime the midnight hour. On their peal, they will fly out into the darkness, disrupting the October night sky. Silhouettes against the full moon, Embracing their calling, they loom. They own the time until the bells call them home.
Lucidity is lost, fading with memories of better times. She is a fragment of who she was – a vibrant girl she used to know, stolen by unexpected grief. Simple plans have vanished, She blinks as nothing comes to mind, but her uninvited reality of darkness.
Unreal reflections are ones which stare back at us.They are misrepresentations of who we are, showing distorted images of our greater selves. They show what we look like on the outside, just a reflection of a superficial image the world sees. Our true reflections are intricate maps of who God created us to be, theContinue reading “Unreal Reflections: 100 Word Writing Prompt”
Thoughts jostle in the space of infinite competition. Pushing against each other, they vie for my attention. Where can I hide from their pursuit? I search for ways to silence them. I close my eyes, breathe deeply, and try to let go.
She sits alone at her kitchen table. One hand casts away cigarette ashes while the other turns the final pages of her latest escape. The knock at the door startles her. She cautiously approaches. Peering through the peephole, she sees no one. She waits a few minutes, checks again, still no sign of anyone. SheContinue reading “99 Word Writing Prompt: Misanthrope”
We are a syzygy – connected by experience, aligned by pain our hearts hold. Now we float, in the only realms we can understand. Life on earth, is a distant memory.
Visiting the charming, quaint tea house in her small town was Claire’s favorite Saturday morning ritual. She rode, the basket filled with fresh flowers she picked along the way. Her routine was the same. She would lock up her bike, then head inside for a cup of English Breakfast Tea. Patricia, the owner of theContinue reading “Sunday Photo Fiction – The Bicycle Basket (200 Words)”
goal was to write a 200 word story inspired by the image (photo courtesy of morguefile) https://sundayphotofiction.com/author/donnamcnicol/ He was tired of trying to make her happy. When did she get so bitter? She was not the same girl he had married years ago. He didn’t know who she was anymore. He only knew one thingContinue reading “Sunday Photo Fiction – Escape (200 words)”
Sunday Photo Fiction Writing Prompt