For the last two years, I’ve been on what I could only describe as a personal journey. Almost like a Hero’s Journey (or a Writer’s Journey 😉 ).
The beauty of the Hero’s Journey model is that it not only describes a pattern in myths and fairy tales, but it’s also an accurate map of the territory one must travel to become a writer or, for that matter, a human being.
Christopher Vogler, The Writer’s Journey: Mythic Structure for Writers 3rd ed
I needed a reason to write and thought, why not take part in a coffee share? So, welcome visitors and HELLO to everyone still reading (I love you <3 ).
Continue reading “My Writer’s Journey so far… (aka Hello!)”
I want to be alone… with someone who wants to be alone.Dimitri Zaik
We rented a motel room in a city far away from our respective lives. The moment we entered, we killed our phones then sequestered them in the old drawer – charging be damned – officially going off grid.
Two chocolates and a courtesy “Hope You Enjoy Your Stay” note sat in the center of the bed. We pushed them onto the floor and stowed away under the cold covers, embracing each other for warmth and, at some primal level, a need to belong.
But when our embrace didn’t scare away the loneliness that festered within us, we resorted to kissing it away.
Our respective decomposing worlds faded into a fog, leaving us alone.
Under satin sheets
Your soft snoring in my ears
Sheltered in your warmth
Photo: Morning Blankets by Cottonbro via Pexels.
Prompt: Solitude ~ Pic and a Word Challenge #257 by Patrick Jennings via Pix to Words.
Quote: Dimitri Zaik
Every bit of me
Wants to believe we
Are real, that in
Our silences, a chord,
Silvery, binds us together.
Unseen but felt, reminding
Us that we are
Kindred souls in love
Fated to be by
God or whatever force
That put us here.
Every bit of me
Wants to believe this.
But the wounds from
Past chords prevent me.
Chords I believed were
Like ours—precious loves—
Until brutishly snatched away
Like ripping an embedded
Hangnail from a finger.
In my eyes
My wounds prove
“Love” is foolish.
Every bit of me
Wants you to
Prove me wrong.
Photo: Three Heart Balloons by Kristina Paukshtite via Pexels.
We agreed to sign the papers. No more trying to heal us. Fixed on our poker faces and met at his house. By nightfall, we were wrapped in each other’s arms.
Picture: Couple hugging by Kevin Laminto via Unsplash
Prompt: Weekend Writing Prompt #140 – Anew by Sammi Cox, Sammi Scribbles
“Sir, please,” the Prey begged
At the Hunter’s feet.
“I’m still in pain from our last encounter.”
And yet Eros
Nocked another arrow.
Eros is the Greek god of Love. He’s also known as Cupid in Roman mythology.
Already he knows her sweetness and loving care; later on he will understand how some men so loved her, that they did dare much for her sake.Dracula, Bram Stoker
She possessed a smile that could pierce light into the deepest parts of a man’s soul. A light he’d swear to worship for all his days until he discovered it false. But, by then, it was usually too late.
Sweet pomegranate lips
Promised love on a platter
Words dipped in poison
Written for: dVerse. I’ve long forgotten from which post, however *blush.* The prompt was to take a quote from a book, turn it on its head, and craft a haibun.
This world we live in
Is full of hate, pain, and loss
But here, in your arms,
Surrounded by your warmth, I
Feel only your love. Only you.
Picture: Adult Couple via Pixabay
There was the flap of wings and then a thud on the bench beside him. “It’s been a while,” a voice said.
Viz shrugged. “Only a few centuries, brother.”
“Because you do your job poorly,” his brother snapped. “Speaking of which, where is your ward?”
He gestured towards the woman he’d been staring at. She was sitting at a ragged park table, crying. “There.”
His brother scoffed. “At least it’s alive this time. Do you know how annoying it was to wait—what was it again—a few centuries for it to reincarnate?”
A man approach his ward. She wiped her face and stood, mumbling an apology. The man embraced her. “It’s all right,” Viz heard him say. His ward went rigid. Then, sobbed on the man’s shoulder.
His brother groaned. “Well, that’s finally done.”
“Yes. Yes, it is.”
Written for: Priceless Joy’s FFfAW Challenge – 199th, Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers
Picture by: Jodi McKinney
When I untied my heartstrings,
Better Judgement snarled. “Why?”
I answered: “Because it needed to soar.”
Photo by Erik Witsoe via Unsplash
Written for Sonya’s Three Line Tales, Week 125, Only 100 Words