Curtains sway in a May breeze ~
A whiff of lilac and roses ~
Swells of young love lap ~
Waves kissing grains of sand ~
Silk sheets cocoon their embrace ~
As morning sun breaks over the sea ~
Song of birds stills racing hearts ~
Calm, calm, let it be, let it be ~
Swaying in a May breeze
Here’s a collection of very short stories and poems (tweet-length) I did based on prompts from vss365today.com over this past week. I’ve found these prompts are a fun way to keep the creative juices flowing and also are seeds for potential future stories. The prompt is the word next to each date. I hope you enjoy!
5/23/21 Iris
Alone
A purple flower blooms
Beside a path
In the shadows
Beauty
Among the monotone
Shades of hope
A different light
Delight
An iris in the forest
My momentary love
Until winter’s breath
5/24/21 Ponytail
“What on earth?”
“This is so embarrassing.”
“I don’t even know… Jensen, your ponytail is stuck in the airlock. How’d it get caught without you being sucked out?”
“Okay, fine, it’s me. I’m the alien. Get me free and we’ll talk.”
“Yeah, no. You ate five of my friends.”
5/25/21 Quaint
“How quaint,” Roger said. It was the kindest thing he could think of at the moment.
Julia shook her head and rolled her eyes. His imagination was too small, she knew. The math worked. Yes, the model looked odd, but the building could be built. Escher would be proud.
5/26/21 Wine
From the Garden Hill
Flow streams of gladness
New wine for the soul
Flooding into valleys below
Joy and delight
Saturating the earth
Until new life flourishes
Sprouts of satisfaction
Bending toward the light
The Sun of Eternal Hope
5/27/21 Doppelganger
I saw him from a distance the first day, gawking. I assumed he was awed by how much we looked alike. My doppelganger, we even had the same chin scar. I know, because a week later, he gazed at me through the window. That’s when I had to break in and make him disappear.
5/28/21 Earlobe
There was no trace of victim or perpetrator, other than a single earlobe. With no matching DNA in the system, they assumed it belonged to the homeowner.
…
Harry stared at the fresh grave of the would-be thief. Ryan’s mistake was breaking into the home of a serial killer.
5/29/21 Valiant
Trembling, Valiant kneeled. “I failed, my lord,” his voice cracked. “I lost courage and ran. I am unworthy of this sword and my name.”
The King leaned forward and gazed at the boy, eyes filled with compassion. “I named you not as you are but as you will be. Rise. Go.”
Image cred: unsplash.com@totoy2001
Here’s a collection of very short stories and poems (tweet-length) I did based on prompts from vss365today.com over this past week. I’ve found these prompts are a fun way to keep the creative juices flowing and also are seeds for potential future stories. The prompt is the word next to each date. I hope you enjoy!
5/2/21 Warcry
The woman gazed into the distance before setting her narrow gray eyes on me. The breeze caught tufts of long gray hair. She brushed it from her eyes.
“It started when I was a girl,” she said. “It was the eagles that sounded the warcry.”
5/3/21 Brainwash
“Did the serum work?”
“I don’t know.” I set the box on the table.
“What’s this?”
“When I asked Perry to brainwash our guest, he thought I literally meant wash his brain. There you go.”
Thad gaped. “I don’t want this.”
I turned to leave, muttering, “I need new help.”
5/4/21 Waxwork
No, no, no! This isn’t supposed to happen! Sigh. I spent 18 years collecting enough crayons. Charlotte, Bethany, & Charles were the perfect family. Always there, always supportive. No more.
I should have lived in Anchorage, not Albuquerque. Dang heat ruined the waxwork.
5/5/21 Storyteller
Chaos
Waves crash into dark seas
The Storyteller speaks
A spark
Chasing away the starless void
The rays of the conductor
Calling forth the symphony of birds
First breath
The child opens his eyes
Gazing across the garden plains
Paradise
5/6/21 Timewarp
Darn it.
I messed up on my vss365. Since Twitter doesn’t have an edit feature, it’s a good thing I have the Machine in my basement.
I’ll create a timewarp, go back, and stop myself.
At least that’s the theory. The only time I tested it, the dog didn’t come back.
5/7/21 Everlasting
The flame burns
An Everlasting light
Guiding us to the mountain
And streams of melting snow
New life to weary wanderers
One hundred years behind us
Lifetimes ahead
Shedding ancient skin
Like a planted seed
Sprouting, growing
Reaching toward the eternal sun
5/9/21 Lockdown
The lockdown was over. They emerged from the bunker a year older and barely surviving. Their food had run out a week ago. What kind of world would they find after the invasion?
The sun was bright. Birds sang. Children laughed and played.
They stared at each other. The warnings?–everything had been a lie.
Image cred: unsplash.com/@robbie36
Here’s a collection of very short stories and poems (tweet-length) I did based on prompts from vss365today.com over this past week. I’ve found these prompts are a fun way to keep the creative juices flowing and also are seeds for potential future stories. The prompt is the word next to each date. I hope you enjoy!
4/18/21 Blessing
It was the tradition of the elders to convey a blessing upon their children. Marcus, though, wasn’t sure what there was to offer.
For years, he watched the many-headed creatures emerge from the cave and devour the children.
It wasn’t time for blessing, but war.
4/19/21 Watch (1)
Jedidiah volunteered to take first watch. He had the sharpest eyes and keenest ears. He wasn’t as sure a shot as Ryan but could hold his own.
It didn’t matter. They’d all be dead by morning light. The creature swooped down from above. He didn’t have time to even scream.
Watch (2)
Setting sun
Orange, pink
Lingering light
Holds on
Breathe
Darkening sky
Light fades
Twinkling eyes
Stars emerge
Watch
4/20/21 Personal
“It’s nothing personal.”
“Then what is it, Frank?”
“I kill. It’s what I do.”
“We’ve been neighbors ten years. Our boys are best friends. We coach together.”
“Sorry, Tom. I can’t stand your laugh. I’ve hated it since I met you.”
“I thought it wasn’t personal.”
“I lied.”
4/21/21 Only
If only for a moment
Facing the setting sun
Souls embrace
Hearts aflame
Whispering secret oaths
Raging in the dark of night
Fates conspire
Who can stand in lasting love
As war drums beat
Far away
Last breath
Star-crossed lives
4/22/21 Settle (1)
“What’s in the beyond, daddy?”
I stood beside my daughter and gazed across the prairie. Humans had ventured to the Great River, but none who crossed returned.
There were rumors of unimaginable beauties, but none certain.
“Adventure.” I grinned. And new land to settle.
Settle (2)
Steady gray eyes
Clouded in time
Gazing ahead
A mighty oak stands
Tall beside the Great River
Leaves turning
Falling
Seedlings grow
Carried by floods
A vision, a distant thought
Happy, sad
Tears for both
Longing
Dreaming
Her voice calls
Come, settle
The Elysian Plains
4/23/21 Thunder
The thunder rolled, a gentle rumble across the plains. The young men labored. Rain or shine, the cattle needed care.
The old cowboy gazed toward the hills at the rider on the horse. This was no ordinary storm. For five hundred years he’d escaped. But Death had finally found him.
4/24/21 Rings
Hollowness rings
Platitudes, promises
Lies told to win the masses
Red-faced talking heads
Twisting truths
Tossing knives into the cage
Eat your own
Destroy the other
Where is hope?
Where is love?
The quiet stillness far away
Hearts longing
Searching
For a better story
Image cred: unsplash.com/@noaa
Here’s a collection of very short stories (tweet-length) I did based on prompts from vss365today.com over this past week. I’ve found these prompts are a fun way to keep the creative juices flowing and also are seeds for potential future stories. The prompt is the word next to each date. I hope you enjoy!
4/5/21 egg
The last egg stares at me from the plate. Maybe I shouldn’t have used the ones the kids hadn’t found, but we were out and grandma demands them.
Ugh. I don’t feel so well. Is that a tail? And horns? Shoot! I hope I’m hallucinating. I’m afraid, though, the eggs deviled me.
4/6/21 basket
“They’re monsters!”
“I’ve heard rumors. First, they take your ears, then your nose.”
“Charlie survived, but he was never the same.”
“Monsters!”
I leaned back, eyes closed, listening to their fears. It didn’t matter. Nothing stops a chocolate bunny’s time in the basket.
4/7/21 Whose
“Four, three, two, one.”
The portal opened, we expected the team back at any moment. When no one emerged, Shauna and I glanced at each other.
“Suit up.”
Ready, I stepped into the swirling lights. Once I could see, I cursed. A bloody hand lay on the ground. But whose?
4/8/21 Birds
There was no warning when the spaceships arrived, not even a radar blip. We weren’t prepared. They crippled our defenses and destroyed our cities before we launched a single missile.
I lived in the rubble. My world had gone silent. I missed the songs of birds most.
4/9/21 Picture
Sharon bought the strange-looking camera from a stranger-looking man in an alley. He promised she wouldn’t find a better one for the price.
When she snapped a picture of Earl, it emitted a beam of light. Her husband vanished, but it was the best photo she ever took.
4/10/21 Hippopotamus
The spaceship hovered over the zoo. A crowd gathered. Even scientists were slack-jawed.
First contact. A day so many look forward to.
The door opened. A creature emerged, strolled by the humans, and toward a hippopotamus, the most intelligent species on the planet.
4/11/21 Exile
Deborah set her gaze on the planet as the ship carried her away. She placed her hand on the window and whispered, “I’ll miss you, my love.”
It was the first day of exile.
Her heart ached for her husband, but leaving him stranded was the only way to keep the crew safe.
Today’s prompt is courtesy of: https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/
comments/mfmn0j/wp_the_devil_did_
go_down_to_georgia_and_there_he/
Here’s my story, enjoy!
Somewhere in Floyd County, Georgia
I watched from the bar as the short, slender man strolled through the door. He had yellow eyes, an oddity for sure, that gazed toward the stage. Thursday nights were Billy’s nights, and the young man, not even old enough to drink, stood and sawed away at his fiddle. Truth is, I never should have let Johnny in the door, and there sure shouldn’t be a cigarette hanging from his lips. My sister would kill me if she knew, but my nephew was just too darn good.
Billy’s playing was why half the men were buying whiskeys or placing more beers on their tab. The greasy blond-haired boy was good for business.
I’d never seen anyone’s fingers move so fast. Sweat flew in every direction, and Billy grinned as the crowd clapped and hollered. Then, without warning, he struck his final note and stomped the stage.
“Woo!”
My patrons erupted, except for the yellow-eyed man.
Billy wiped his brow, took a bow, and dropped the cigarette into the ashtray. “Takin’ a little intermission. Y’all sit tight.” My nephew smiled and carried his fiddle to the bar. He never let the instrument out of sight.
“Coke?” I asked as he eased onto a stool.
“Y’ain’t gonna let me have something stronger?” Billy asked with a grin. He knew the answer. “Just a water.”
I poured the glass and eyed the short man as he approached, carrying a case in his left hand. He sat beside Billy.
“What’s your poison?” I asked.
“Fireball,” the man replied. “Leave the bottle.”
Billy giggled. “A little on the nose, don’t ya’think?”
“Come now?” the man asked.
“With eyes like that, you obviously gotta be a demon or something.”
“William,” I said, as stern as I ever spoke to the boy.
“Oh, I’m not offended,” the man said. “But I’m no demon. The name’s Lucifer. I’m their prince.”
I set the shot on the bar and rolled my eyes. What a crazy thing to say, I thought, until he opened his case.
Billy’s eyes grew big. “Is that a golden fiddle?” Light shimmered off the instrument in all directions.
“The finest fiddle there is,” Lucifer said as he pulled it from the case and ran spindly fingers along its neck and strings. “Do you want to hold it?”
“Billy, don’t,” I said.
That boy never listens. He took the fiddle from who I now assumed was actually Satan.
“Whoa.”
“You’ll never find another like it. I’ll make you a deal…”
“Like in that song?”
The devil wryly smiled. “We don’t talk about that song.”
“How’d you get it back?”
“Johnny was… Just… Never mind. Do you want the opportunity for a golden fiddle or not? Try it.”
Billy plucked a few chords. I had never heard an instrument as well-tuned.
“You’re good,” Lucifer said. “But are you as good as me?”
“Lemme guess. We duel, and if I win, I get to keep your fiddle, and if you win, you get my soul.”
“Precisely.”
“Just like the song.” Billy grinned.
The devil furrowed his brow. “Just like the song,” he said through gritted teeth.
“You’re on.” Billy handed back the violin. “Hit the stage, let’s see whatcha got.” Before I could stop him, my nephew grabbed the shot of whiskey and tossed it against the back of his throat. “Woo!” He slammed the glass on the counter as his cheeks burned. “Pour the devil another!”
Lucifer grinned and sauntered to the stage.
I leaned toward my nephew. “This is not a good idea.”
“Trust me, Uncle James, I got this.”
“Pride goes before a fall.”
“Yeah, yeah. Mama tells me that all the time.”
I sighed. I wasn’t much of the praying sort, but I made an appeal to the Good Lord for Billy’s eternal soul. I stared at the stage with my arms folded across my chest. Billy drummed the bar with his fingers as he wore a big, goofy grin.
Lucifer plucked a few strings, smiled, and set his bow. His hands flew into a frenzy, faster than Billy’s ever had. My jaw dropped at the sound.
It wasn’t what I expected.
Billy clenched his jaw and scrunched his brow. I bit my lip and shook my head. This was bad. The men and women spread throughout the tables covered their ears.
“You suck!” someone shouted. Others booed.
The screeching ruckus threatened to drive away my patrons.
“This is awful,” Billy shouted at me over the racket.
I watched as those closest to the door stood.
“Hey!” I yelled as I jumped over the bar. The devil kept playing. “Hey!” I ran onto the stage and grabbed Lucifer’s hand.
His shoulders slumped with a sigh. “I might be a little out of practice.”
“Why don’t you come to the bar,” I whispered as the boos died down. “I’ll pour you another shot, on the house. Just stop playing, please.” I was an optimist at heart. I hated to see anyone dejected, even the dark lord of hell.
Lucifer again took a seat beside my nephew.
“That was awful,” Billy said.
“I know,” Lucifer replied. “I just need a little more practice to get back in the habit. Then I’ll take you on, Billy Hogan.”
My nephew smirked. “Oh, no, no. A deal’s a deal.”
The devil rolled his eyes and handed the fiddle to Billy. As the boy ran to the stage, Lucifer sipped his shot and shook his head. “I hate humans. You’re foul, vile creatures, especially your young ones.”
Billy jumped onto the stage and grabbed the mic. “This one’s for ol’ Lucy over there.” With a toothy grin, Billy set his bow to the strings and started in on The Devil Went Down to Georgia.
The devil growled and then yelled, “I hate this song!”
Image cred: unsplash.com/@mralireza06
Meredith and Brent at dinner…
Read their story in Until Summer.
Download a Free Sample here (PDF).
You can find the book on Amazon for Kindle and Kindle Unlimited and in paperback.
Daniel in a heated conversation with his son during a visit…
Read their story in Until Summer.
Download a Free Sample here.
You can find the book on Amazon for Kindle and Kindle Unlimited and in paperback.
Making the right choice but having second thoughts…
Read their story in Until Summer.
Download a Free Sample here.
You can find the book on Amazon for Kindle and Kindle Unlimited and in paperback.
I found this prompt from a defunct page on Tumbler. There wasn’t a link or attribution, so I don’t know who it originates with. If you know, I’d love to hear to I can give credit! Prompt: Tell the story of why a supervillain sings a song in the shower to get prepared for the day.
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
“Richard.”
Beep. Beep.
“Richard!”
“Hmm?”
“Your alarm, babe.”
“Oh.” Beep. Beep. Bee… “Thanks.”
I watched from the doorway as my husband sat up on the side of the bed and stretched. For ten years, he and I have been married. For ten years, I have returned to the room to wake him after he slept through the alarm. I’m not sure why he even uses one.
But Richard Barnhart, if nothing else, is a man of habit.
“Coffee’s brewing.”
He cocked his head and grinned, gazing at me through squinty eyes. I blushed. My sister told me before I married Richard and every week since, “You could do better, Janie, you really could.”
Maybe Richard struggled with work and sometimes went days without showering. He could be a bit quirky, but he was also charming. That goofy grin and his sweet words melted my heart. When he made me mad, I couldn’t stay angry long.
And Richard Barnhart, if nothing else, is a man of commitment.
That’s hard to find nowadays, but he loves me, and he loves our son, and not once have I had a doubt about that.
“I’m making muffins,” I said. “Do you want eggs or sausage?”
“Eggs, please.”
I smiled and blew him a kiss. He returned the gesture.
Jonathon, our seven-year-old, sat at the kitchen table. It was Monday. Jonathon, without fail, asked for blueberry muffins on Mondays. They were my favorite breakfast, so I was happy to oblige. He drew on a sheet of paper with colored pencil—a scene with tall buildings, a bright yellow sun, and two men fighting in the street. One wore a brownish-gray guise that resembled an armadillo. The other sported black tights, a matching cape, and a purple mask. He held a laser gun of some kind that fired at the armadillo.
“Who wins?” I asked.
Jonathon glanced up, grinning from ear-to-ear. It was his father’s grin, that same charm. “The Darth Avenger, of course!”
“Of course.” I chuckled and patted his shoulder before I grabbed an egg and a frying pan.
The pipes clanked as Richard showered. It wouldn’t be too long before we heard his voice echoing through the walls. He sang the same song every day.
I love my husband, but Richard Barnhart, if nothing else, is a man who cannot carry a tune.
Still, he belted: “Woah, we’re halfway there! Wo-oah, livin’ on a prayer! Take my hand; we’ll make it, I swear. Wo-oah livin’ on a prayer! Livin’ on a prayer!”
Jonathon used to ask why daddy sang the same song every day. I would smile and tell him that it was our song. We often struggled to pay the bills. It frustrated Richard, but the song reminded us that we had the most important thing already.
He finished his shower. I pulled the muffins from the oven and slid the egg onto his plate. Richard emerged from the bedroom wearing a black Spandex suit with a matching cape. “This looks awesome, hon,” he said as he kissed my cheek and grabbed his plate and coffee. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” I beamed, but my grin quickly faded. I pointed to the growing stack of bills on the counter. “Several of those are second notices.”
He nodded. “I know. I have a bank job today. That should take care of the pile and the next month’s.”
“What if the Amazing Armadillo shows up?”
“I got that covered.” Richard glanced at Jonathon. “Isn’t that right, son?”
“Yeah!” Jonathon’s eyes grew big. “Dad has a new shrink ray!”
“Is that what you’re drawing?” I asked.
Jonathon nodded.
“Okay.” I placed my hand on Richard’s chest. “Just be careful.”
“Always am.” We kissed. “Love you, hon.” Richard pulled on his purple mask and headed for the door, singing as he walked. “Oh, we’ve got to hold on, ready or not. You live for the fight when it’s all that you got!”
Richard Barnhart, if nothing else, is a man of hope.
Photo cred: unsplash.com/@peterlaster
Michael (Mike) Bergman 