TLT: Out of Reach

photo by Dominik Martin – here's a bigger version
photo by Dominik Martin 

His perfect profile stands out against the smoke;

I want to reach, take him away into a darker corner

& I would but for the possessive hand vice-gripping my shoulder.

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TLT: Is This Just Fantasy

three line tales week 37: swing with chairs in the background
photo by Ben Rosett 

Throughout the ceremony, the groom ignores
the angry rustling coming from the oak still carrying his swing
because if he doesn’t look, he can keep pretending the dryad to whom he once gave his heart doesn’t exist.

Undecided

100 words about a woman who doesn't want to decide
Nortina’s Moral Mondays this week is all about getting off the fence 

‘These. No, those. No, hang on, I don’t know.’

‘Where have I heard this before… Both?’

‘Both would be greedy.’

‘You don’t usually show such restraint. Both would mean we can get out of here. At this point, I’m willing to pay that price.’

‘You aren’t paying for anything, mister. I buy my own shoes.’

‘Prove it.’

‘There’re arguments to be made for either.’

‘I understand these. But those? They’re flashy and look like elaborate instruments of torture.’

‘Sometimes, a girl needs flashy.’

‘I wish you’d decide.’ (He dosen’t say: On one pair of shoes. Or one man… On me.)

Better than she knows herself

(c) Phylor 

‘This is it?’

‘I said wait till you see the inside.’

‘But this is it? It’s surrounded by concrete. Looks like one of those chain pubs. Don’t say it used to be a pub.’

’It wasn’t a pub.’

‘Don’t lie, I’ll be able to smell.’

‘You ready to go in, then?’

‘There’s no privacy. Anyone can walk all around it.’

‘Let’s go in.’

‘Don’t you see it would be a waste of time? I don’t like it.’

‘You ought to see the inside.’

‘One glance. Won’t take more…  Oh, wow! This is unexpected. Look at the fireplace. I love it.’

***

For Moral Mondays and FFfAW.

Survival of the Sneakiest

Here’s something a little bit longer – a story of mine which was one of five winners of the 1000 Words flash competition in December 2014. Since 1000words.org has disappeared and my story with it, I’ll put it up here. In a way, the success I had with it encouraged me to start the blog. so it is relevant.

194 words about surviving in harsh circumstances
photo by Anders Jildén

‘The ground is frozen. I’ll burn more calories than I’ll bring home,’ he protests when I ask him to go digging for roots.

‘It’s that or starvation. Go right to the edge where the sun’s been warming the ground the longest. Should be softer there.’

I hand him the hammer and one of the nine-inch nails. They’re coming in useful, the nails. I insisted we take them when he said they’d be nothing but ballast.

He puts the tools into his pouch and slouches off. I stoke the fire and put another log on. I retrieve the blowgun. But I’m getting ahead of myself. I’d better take care of the bait first. I wait for him to get settled by the edge. When I hear the pings of hammer hitting nail, I go after him. I pick up a rock. I never take my eyes off him, stay behind his back.

‘Sorry. I can’t keep feeding us both.’

He doesn’t have time to turn around before I bring down the rock. He slumps, tumbles over the edge and lands on the plateau beneath.

I fetch blowgun and nails and wait for the birds.