collar-bone unnaturally protruded

sockets where lights had beamed

dangled with no spark

fingers that had grasped another’s in trust

Clear notes like fine crystal

hopes of Opera

smoky bars and sleazy dumps

croaking semblance of sound

talent

beauty

dreams

DOA the tag on her toe hung from under a cold  lifeless sheet

Flash Fiction certainly isnt DOA as it is in the capable hands of the host G-Man. Who tho on the road manages 55 words none-the-less

Closing her eyes

escape from the past

looking to a dream

to take her away

*

To castles and clouds

fields and seas

she ran to the mountains

all in one day

Rarely do I write directly about myself or the people in my life. Many of you have been part of my life for several years and in one regard have given me cause to persevere. Several years ago writing became my lifeline. My health was failing; I was literally drowning in a destructive marriage and there seemed no end.

With the help of  friends and family members, I finally got the courage to flee from my marriage. It is sad when dark things come to the light. How could I have been  blind to it? Not only do I see the light more clearly but also the black and the grays.

Thanks to each of you – your encouragement has meant more than you will ever know.

Photography and poetry copyrighted work of L. Moon 2012

the gold band broke in pieces

too easily

pictures of a couple

in separate frames

bottle where tears collected

shattered from overuse

dreams discarded in rumpled newsprint

don’t look back

our love was already gone

holding me in

fingertips groping at the opening

“free me”

No response

only a cold malignant smile

trapped I become claustrophobic

“where is it?”

I have lost it

None left

reason absent

no air

you have sealed my fate

with duct tape and a cold heart

“This will be our last performance” the stage manager said to the cast wiping his face with his sleeve.

It’s been a good run one of the leads said nervously peering over his shoulder. It’s always better to close the show before they stop coming.

“We know where all the bodies are buried” was written in lipstick on her dressing room mirror.

Somehow she always knew…

Tonight’s last performance would include the death of two leads not the traditional one.

Thanks to Jenny Matlock who hosts Saturday Centus. This weeks prompt: “We know where all the bodies are buried “

Hands ready to receive the ball
Feet Ready to hear the call “goal”
Fans ready to eat, drink and watch some plays
 old timers remember the days
 Crews ready for live interviews with Tom and
Eli
Coaches ready for the yellow flag to fly
 all because of a ball the shape of a brown ellipse

Happy Super Bowl watching to all of you football voyeurs – otherwise happy flash fiction writing.

(Each week some very talented writers share  flash fiction  with GMan. Everyone is welcome to join the 55 word challenge)

… and I knew

absence

nothing

love less

thought less

faith less

your eyes revealed…

… nothing years ago

I felt

pain less

wreck less

FREE

since I gouged them out

I closed my eyes to shut out raw pain

rejection grazed my heart like a spear

coming too close and spurting the last feeling

I closed my heart a barren shield

dont ask me to ever love again

I’ve felt the cold sting of steel

the remnants of my heart are on your blade

****

I opened my eyes and I saw clarity

awaken me from this dream

give me a clear vision

opening my eyes I feel a kiss

something I had for so long missed

a longing for the warmth

the one who had waited in my dreams

A light pierced  the fog

“come to shelter “

turning  toward darkness

my arms grew weary

groping in a  mist of confusion

“come this way”

“but there is nothing to light the way”

changing direction

my feet stumble on a root

the cliff just inches behind me

slipping toward the edge…

I’m sorry I missed the first part of this prompt but I will attempt to hang the reader off the cliff for Jenny Matlock’s Centus Saturday

Telling me stories about the ship that had sunk in the stormy sea

“All were lost”

you said with a tear on your cheek

I never knew you never told me

All had not been lost

A small boy and his scruffy dog had floated into the bay

A fisherman and his wife found the two survivors and raised them as their own

One day you went out to sea looking for something you had lost

You never told me what you were seeking

“All were lost”

I carved into  broken wood

A piece of flotsam where we will never sit again

“Please take me out to sea faithful tide

where I can be joined with the one

I have lost…”

Photograph~ “Winter Tide” L. Moon copyright 2012