Photo by Kingsley Osei-Abrah on Unsplash
“What have you sacrificed?” they asked. “What will you sacrifice?”
I said, “I’ve already given you all my yesterdays, and you are demanding all my tomorrows. I’m chained in the present. I have nothing left to give.”
They smiled at my tears and blood.
(words 44; first published March 4, 2023 – from a picture prompt for a Facebook writing group. Aim is about 50 words)
Photo by Erol Ahmed on Unsplash
The popsicle dropped, staining the threshold red. I kick it aside into the bushes beside our front door. Beside me, my dad reached for the brush in a bucket of blood. He swishes it against the lintel and doorposts in the last moments before sunset. Hurriedly we enter our home and shut the door.
(words 54, first published 3/4/2023 – from a picture prompt for a Facebook writing group. Aim is about 50 words)
Photo by Nikola Jovanovic on Unsplash
She came out of the fog and smoke, one eye missing from the “safe” rubber bullets, blood running down her face. Blue clung to her like the blue of the cops, the free blue sky, and sadness. A warrior wounded. A waif weaponized. A woman of woe.
(words 47; first published July 10, 2022 – from a picture prompt for a Facebook writing group. Aim is about 50 words)
Photo by Paul Mierau on Unsplash
“The chime of the times.” Malcolm smirked at Emily as he reached for the bellpull.
Emily bit back a groan. The non-stop puns needed to stop. Groaning or commenting only encouraged him.
Swinging the clapper back and forth with the chain, he sung “Ding, dong, the witch is dead.”
“I’m most certainly am not!”
Emily and Malcolm both jumped back as the red door opened to the oldest woman they had ever met, and looking unmistakably related to the both of them.
(words 82; first published July 10, 2022 – from a picture prompt for a Facebook writing group. Aim is about 50 words)
Photo by Valentin Salja on Unsplash
The dog led the way, as it had from the time it crossed Ebenezer’s path six days ago. It led him to shelter the first night, and the next day it led him to berries to fill his starving belly. The near week in the winter hellscape, his boon companion brought him to a hot spring and recent animal kills, tree shelters and caves. Ebenezer never had a dog before, and wasn’t sure if the relationship was more reversed. Seeing the structure break over the hill, the lost hiker became even more uncertain about their relationship but at this point he was too tired, too desperate, too dependent to question. He followed where the animal led.
(words 116; first published July 10, 2022 – from a picture prompt for a Facebook writing group. Aim is about 50 words)