We stopped on the path, near the canal, our preferred running lane in Faust's metropolis, under the chestnut trees. The air was already much cooler, prelude to the cold wind that soon would blow from the plains of Poland and beyond. "You're getting too good for me," I said, nearly out of breath, with the … Continue reading #DailyPrompt: Oil, Meet Water
The moon appeared, a moody silvery face half masked by grey clouds, just above the trees. The young woman moved slowly through the quiet house: it was still early, perhaps before seven in the old clock time: she knew where to find her love, the writer, who must have been at work for a good … Continue reading #FiveSentenceFiction: Envy
She had much talent, at imitating people, acting the impossible, in turn the clown and the seductress, her smile an inescapable charm. How well I remember her, and the hours, the long walks, the mist of the days, the early morning smell of coffee, the magic of love... How I wish to live those happy years again, … Continue reading 3VisD #1 (NaNo ’14) #WritersWednesday
On the small balcony he looked at the slow traffic down on the street: the city was near silent, in a thin mist of rain. He would take a picture of the buildings, at the junction, this time on a high enough aperture to see the drops falling, and the dream-like quality of the scenery. … Continue reading #FiveSentenceFiction: Rain
I try to concentrate on our work: you the model, I, the painter. Yet what goes through this mind, what dreams are born and destroyed, what illicit fantasies stimulate this imagination? What pain tortures this body? For art is the opposite of love. Art is the dark killer of illusions. Image: Saori Taira, via Tohjiro
His mind was set long ago: to please her, to make himself the indispensable lover. He knows his way, the meaning of her scent. His, is the gentleness, the patience, the obedience of a true believer. Hers, the certainty of finding the summit, of savouring love in all its glory.
Hers: Hidden, but no less enticing...
What's your favourite daily ritual? You let the sun brighten the room, and I know: this is your hour, the time when the choice is yours. But first, we follow the ritual... "Which door do you wish to open?" "Will you want more, or less?" "On this side of me is a mystery." To which tradition … Continue reading #Postaday #DailyPrompt: Just Another Day
He's away, and I should miss him, and perhaps I do, but I know he's happy. He's happy not because I am not there: he calls me every night, his words are as soft and suggestive as ever; he's happy because he's free. He's free of the ghosts of the past that haunted him, in … Continue reading #FiveSentenceFiction: Freedom
I know you don't expect me yet, but I'll be with you real fast... And, you know, those jeans pull off easy, and those boots: I am already there, in your small studio, you, naked, me, naked, and the beast, in the street, happy... Those boots are made for riding.