Thy fearful symmetry

What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry
–William Blake

Friday Fictioneers–Desertion

If you like to write, but have a hard time thinking of a subject, consider joining Friday Fictioneers. In the wee hours of Wednesday, (it used to be on Friday, hence the name), Rochelle, our despotic leader who holds all power, posts a photo prompt.  Thinking caps are donned all over the known world (and possibly elsewhere) and 100-word stories are churned out.  The resulting stories, of all genres, are posted on Rochelle’s  website,
https://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/,
and the fun commences.  Stories may be submitted until the following Tuesday night, when brain cells must be rested for the next day’s prompt.

You have the option of writing a/o reading, although if you write, you are encouraged to read at least some of the other stories. If you just want to read, that’s fine, too.  You’ll find the link to all the current stories at the end of my post or on Rochelle’s site.  We welcome newcomers, whether writers or readers, as well as “the regulars”, so please join us this week.

copyright-managua-gunn

Desertion

Hell of a lot of time to think on this job.  To remember.

This morning I realized her smell was gone, her flowery scent that had lingered so long.  I’d taken her clothes to the thrift store after she left, sold the house, didn’t respond to phone calls.    Everyone felt sorry for me, speculated about why she’d left.  I couldn’t bear it.

Finding her with someone else in my own house, in my own bed, had been too much.  Now I wondered where they’d gone, if the bodies would ever surface, if I were safe.

Lots of time to think.

Seduction

Seduction

Walking on concrete
Street noise attacking, then retreating.
Summer taps my arm.

“Look at me,” she whispers.
“I want to touch you.”

Sun’s heat
Lilacs’ sweet scent
Greens of every hue
Hidden, shaded stream emitting coolness
Unexpected flowers amidst tangled growth
Sun-bright yellows, flaunting reds, royal purples
Fuzzy cattail sausages on nature’s skewers
Deep azure skies

City noises clamor for attention.

“Aren’t you glad you came?” Summer asks,
Smiling,
Sublimely sure of her power.

Rainy days and Mondays

Many a man curses the rain that falls upon his head, and knows not that it brings abundance to drive away the hunger.
–St. Basil

The three great elemental sounds in nature are the sound of rain, the sound of wind in a primeval wood,
and the sound of outer ocean on a beach.
–Henry Beston

Rain is grace; rain is the sky descending to the earth; without rain, here would be no life.
–John Updike

The death of meaning

“Politicians made no discernible sense when they spoke, few doctors used the word ‘cancer’ with patients who had it and the word ‘immigrant’ could no longer be prefaced by ‘illegal’. Detach language from meaning and the world was yours.”

The Golden Egg, Donna Leon

I’ve been sitting for a good five minutes trying to decide where to start writing. Thoughts and examples are tumbling through my head and I seem unable to put them in order. Perhaps I’ll just grab onto one at a time as they fly past and throw them onto…not paper…into the ether of the blog? OK, that’s a plan.

Deception

                                                                                        Deception

The five years felt both brief and forever.  Our anniversary treat–a week away together.  Tonight Terry encouraged me to drive over to the lake for some sunset shots as I’d planned.  “We’ll make up for it later”, he  said with a  salacious wink and dramatic leer.  “Take your time.  I’ll see you about 9.”

Weekly Photo Challege: Curves

The choices for this week’s prompt, “Curves”, were multitudinous, so I succumbed to the urge to share two very different pictures of curves. Enjoy!

To see more entries, head over to main change for the challenge: http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/06/14/weekly-photo-challenge-curves/.