Thursday photo prompt
“This fell not far from us,” she said in a trembling voice.
Her companion replied, not just to reassure her, “That’s true, but now we know where it came from!”
And so it is with most human actions, there is always a return, sometimes with even more fume…
It’s a time for soft compromise
in the dim light,
as diffused clouds attempt
to swallow the world:
even the crows fly skeptical,
nothing to see here,
bar the blank page.
Image: Rabenkräheschwarm, von Frank Liebig – Archiv Frank Liebig, CC BY-SA 3.0 de, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=75539705
Weekly Writing Prompt #153
Away from this stage,
is another test –
where force plays no role,
but the changing face,
the soft verses,
of an everlasting poem…
Photo: Jardins du Luxembourg, Paris, ©2013 Honoré Dupuis
A silent sweep above the early Summer moor, a flash of light, and she’s gone…
I felt the soft flutter, an angel flew by me, clueless mortal, accident of organic chemistry…
He remembered: in his youth, this landscape would have been covered with snow, frozen, for several weeks, even, on a colder year, for months. Now, the thaw had come before Christmas. They’d had two snow storms, and, perhaps, it would be all for the winter…
But he knew. Despite all the speeches, the pledges, the politicians’ grand gestures, nothing really had changed. Nature, the Earth, would wait. It had happened before, long ago, before the great flood. It would happen again.
The old man resumed his walk. The late December sun rays were warm on his skin.
Weekly writing prompt #115
“This is no star,” she said, gobbling her food, “but a very big planet…”
“It would be a big deal, if the word existed for a planet bigger than its star,” she continued, her satisfied smile reflecting her internal peace, “but alas, it doesn’t: just a curiosity…”
Image: courtesy Science daily, © Lucas Granito
Astronomers discover a giant world – but is it a planet?
When they left the S-Bahn station a thin drizzle was falling on the deserted sidewalks of Wedding. It was about 1:30 in the morning, there was hardly any traffic, dawn was still some hours away. They were tired of carrying their luggage: it had been a long journey, all the way from the other side of the other capital… But home was now very close!
On the plane they had celebrated with a half-bottle of half-cooled champagne, just happy to have made it, through the grid-locked roads, the late and overflowing trains, the idiotic obstacle course through duty-free (!) at the airport.
As usual, they felt happy to be back, under a sky that meant, for them, peace and love.
And then there was that diagnosis: something not right, but not so wrong that they should worry, for now. They were not going to, as they had long learnt that being suspicious was an attribute of free people. And so it went for these cells inside him, and their mysterious behaviour.
As she opened the door, they kissed. This was not their last trip.
Picture: ancient bell, Invaliden Friedhof, Berlin Mitte, ©2017 Honoré Dupuis
Inspired by Sue Vincent’s Thursday Photoprompt
At first his vision was not clear, as if the world around him was out of focus. Minutes passed, then, step by step, he started making sense of what he was looking at. He was in some sort of cave, and far, far away in front of him, he could see light of day. He must have been lying down on a slab of rock, perhaps flat on his belly, but he could not feel the hard surface under him.
He tried to move, and sensed some motion, at the periphery of his vision. He wanted to touch, move his limbs, scratch his body. His body? He had wide angle vision, could look down at the floor of the cave down below, or up its ceiling, left and right.
Some oblong objects appeared, sideway of him. It took him some effort to recognise what they were: the pincers of some crustacean creature – was he in the claws of a giant spider?
He tried to move again, got some feeling in his right front limb, the claw had moved. Could he lift his head? Yes he could. It was so simple, the powerful limbs could lift his body up, shell and all.
The shell was his, he was the creature, the large sea spider, whose armour was scraping the floor of the tunnel, as he moved forward toward the light.
Inspired by the Secret Keeper’s writing prompt, Monday, May 29th
The warm wind is blowing little clouds of fluffy seeds, the air is still,
Higher up in the sky we see the spirals of complexity, a world of uncontrollable danger:
No aerosol ban can change the fact,
Our species is slowly vanishing…
Inspired by https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/controversy/
“No, you won’t do that, and as you well know, if you did, you’d be on your own!” The statement sounded pretty final, so I stayed silence: from then on I’d have to demonstrate I understood where I stood, in the order of things.
And I did. So we are, in a state of cease-fire, neither war, nor peace. I have made-up my mind of course, but I won’t risk a return to this controversy: I value the silence, the long lazy mornings, the quiet evenings. Is this wisdom? Or is it cowardice?
Picture: Orange, Helsinki, 2015, via osmaharvilahtiosmaharvilahti.tumblr.com