Teepee

1st Feb 2019



Struggled to write just the 100 words for Friday Fictioneers today. Had to edit from 300 - ish. Hope it still has some sense.
Might still write  a poem with in response to this prompt though.




Wild Place
 
Rosanna pulled back the canvas.
"Wow, Clare look. The sky - pink, purple, orange, hues of  blue.
And mountains ..."
Her sister looked through the peephole.
"Wow that's amazing. But I won't forget."
"I know. Let dad sleep. We'll make coffee."  Wrapped  in blankets they walked to chairs, left out the night before.
" You know they always planned to come here,  the two of them ."
"Yes, but not with us, Ros.  Dad's just being weird."
"There used to be four chairs," Ros sat down, "lately only  two," she wiped away a tear, "and  now three. We're here because dad needs this."

Octpowrimo, 13th and 14th

19th Oct 2017

The prompt for the 13th Oct :

Art In The Wayward Mind 

This wayward mind wanders
off course
an interminable inventor of wild
imaginings
remodeling, reshaping a woeful
reality
tortured until it turns again to
truth
and finds the narrow
path
and
follows

And for the 14th Oct:

Movement And Words

He gently rubs  the damp cloth over 

his trainers 

revealing a white area on the 

old canvas

one by one he slowly unravels the two

 blue laces.

Dreamily he watches a fly walk nearby on 

 grey tiles

And thinks, you have no idea how lucky 

you are 

Out on the downs he runs, runs, slowly

at first

Then, words fight inside his head, explode 

back , forth

He speeds up , they get louder, his breath

gives out 

He stops,

Falls to the floor,

Sobs softly





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