I am linking up with Write at the Merge this week for some flash fiction, word limit 108. They gave me the first 8.
Always a challenge, every word becomes so important.
This is what I came up with....(106 words)
The bells of St. Brigit's are calling tonight.
The sounds of the bells break the silence that has surrounded the city. The waves break forth from the steeple, through the gates and rushes over the leaves.
But they are holding back. Crouched and hidden, isolated in corners of the alleys, under boxes and crates. They are clutching the fear that imprisoned them here. The events they witnessed left no trust.
A single candle pierces the darkness.
Finally, one staggers forward. Bare dirty feet and tattered clothes.
At the doorway...arms pull her into an embrace.
Candle goes out, bells go silent.
St. Brigit called only one tonight.
I always welcome feedback to help me grow as a writer.
Wednesday, February 5, 2014
Thursday, January 23, 2014
Empty Spaces
I am linking up with Write on Edge again this week. I love the practice and getting to writing again. I am pushing the deadline and this piece is in need of lots of work....(but here goes)
I went with the photo prompt:
The last of the boxes were finally unpacked. It had taken just a few days..she came with so little. Boxes anyway. But the luggage she carried in her heart would take much longer to unpack.
Carri slumped into the couch. Her eyes searched the room...empty spaces everywhere.
She closed her eyes and lifted her feet. She allowed her ears to tune into the stories beyond her empty walls and down the halls. She listened to the laughter of children. The clanging of pots and pans. The gruff voice and muffled responses. She imagined the walls in their spaces. Photos and plaques. Shelves of collections and trophies. Histories. She yearned for connection. She desired a history she'd want to remember.
From the street below she heard the sound of a lone trumpet. Intrigued she went to the window. Below she saw him. A little disheveled, eyes without life, but from those notes came an emotion she couldn't describe. As he played, the passerbys seemed not to even notice. Carri couldn't understand how they could ignore him...she felt mesmerized and drawn in. It was as if those notes carried hope, and invitation of a future. It wasn't a song she knew or heard before. Yet she felt as if it was for her. As the rhythm changed her body moved into motion. She felt a desire to run and sit with him. She was locked in position by fear, afraid if she left the window he'd disappear. So she stood and stayed with him, there at the window until the dusk rolled in and the stars rolled out. He put his trumpet into its case and walked away into the darkness.
That night she dreamed of the music and of his face. In her dreams, his face was softer and brighter. She could see his eyes more clearly, and they held hope. The music had words...whispered in a smokey tune. When she awoke she could no longer capture the images or remember the words. But she felt her heart yearn for it. It haunted her daylight hours. She went out and walked the streets, searching faces and hoping to find him in the masses. She listened for the music amidst the traffic and rushing crowds.
Back in her empty space she found herself humming the songs she heard, closed her eyes and captured his face again...and then the trumpet came. She didn't even walk to the window, she opened the door and rushed through the hallways and down the stairs. As she opened the door it was if the city stood still and he was there alone. She slowed her step and walked towards him.
He continued to play, his back to her. She felt as if each note was pulling her closer.
On his late note he turned....and greeted her with a smile. "I've been waiting for you."
As she looked into those eyes, and saw the light...she knew he had been. Destiny had finally found her, connected her.
He lifted the trumpet to his lips...and she stood beside him, singing the words to a song she had never known.
I went with the photo prompt:
The last of the boxes were finally unpacked. It had taken just a few days..she came with so little. Boxes anyway. But the luggage she carried in her heart would take much longer to unpack.
Carri slumped into the couch. Her eyes searched the room...empty spaces everywhere.
She closed her eyes and lifted her feet. She allowed her ears to tune into the stories beyond her empty walls and down the halls. She listened to the laughter of children. The clanging of pots and pans. The gruff voice and muffled responses. She imagined the walls in their spaces. Photos and plaques. Shelves of collections and trophies. Histories. She yearned for connection. She desired a history she'd want to remember.
From the street below she heard the sound of a lone trumpet. Intrigued she went to the window. Below she saw him. A little disheveled, eyes without life, but from those notes came an emotion she couldn't describe. As he played, the passerbys seemed not to even notice. Carri couldn't understand how they could ignore him...she felt mesmerized and drawn in. It was as if those notes carried hope, and invitation of a future. It wasn't a song she knew or heard before. Yet she felt as if it was for her. As the rhythm changed her body moved into motion. She felt a desire to run and sit with him. She was locked in position by fear, afraid if she left the window he'd disappear. So she stood and stayed with him, there at the window until the dusk rolled in and the stars rolled out. He put his trumpet into its case and walked away into the darkness.
That night she dreamed of the music and of his face. In her dreams, his face was softer and brighter. She could see his eyes more clearly, and they held hope. The music had words...whispered in a smokey tune. When she awoke she could no longer capture the images or remember the words. But she felt her heart yearn for it. It haunted her daylight hours. She went out and walked the streets, searching faces and hoping to find him in the masses. She listened for the music amidst the traffic and rushing crowds.
Back in her empty space she found herself humming the songs she heard, closed her eyes and captured his face again...and then the trumpet came. She didn't even walk to the window, she opened the door and rushed through the hallways and down the stairs. As she opened the door it was if the city stood still and he was there alone. She slowed her step and walked towards him.
He continued to play, his back to her. She felt as if each note was pulling her closer.
On his late note he turned....and greeted her with a smile. "I've been waiting for you."
As she looked into those eyes, and saw the light...she knew he had been. Destiny had finally found her, connected her.
He lifted the trumpet to his lips...and she stood beside him, singing the words to a song she had never known.
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