Nothing left to say-

Nothing left to say-

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It was right after the first prayer,
Of the day-
The one called subh;
There you lay on the couch,
Trembling;
The all famous, dreaded
Fetal position,
Mama’s just told you;
“Don’t be surprised
You shouldn’t be surprised “-
The voice in your head screams;
And you recall her saying-
“It’s over.”

And right about then,
The Water-pool flows down your cheeks
And you lay there on the couch,
Shivering.
“Dont cry honey”
“Everything’s going to be alright”-

She says;
And you wonder-
How she could be so calm,
When all around you,
The roof’s come crashing down.

Twelve years old and you lay there,
And you just lay there;
whisper a silent prayer
To The Lord you worship
To overturn the inevitable;
And her voice-
It comes back as an echo,
Again and again;
Resonating against brick walls-
The words she’d blurted-
“It’s over”
“We’re getting a divorce.”

There’s nothing left to say
And the water pool-
You let them flow down your cheeks…

day 20 of October Poetry Writing Month. Prompt: Love and the poetry type I used is: Slam poetry also known as spoken word poetry.   IMAGE CREDIT: 8Tracks.com
Twitter- @WordsOfARandom

Flash Fiction: Blackouts 4

Flash Fiction: Blackouts 4

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Upon Richard Blake’s arrival to Willow’s Place, Allison wasted no time in relaying to him the events of her divorce, return of her blackouts and the poster left for her. Richard listened with utmost attention and when Allison was done speaking, he said, “let’s take a drive”.
“To where?” Allison questioned suspiciously.
“To the most colorful part of town”, Richard replied with a grin.

Allison turned her gaze to the houses lining the streets of Balmary as Richard drove through. She focused on the passers-by, all in an attempt to block out any unwanted conversations Richard, her father, might decide to spring up.

All was well until Allison cried out, “I don’t know what to make of all these”. “My head is in a wobble”. Richard brought the car to a halt and turned to his daughter.

     “Am I- am I going nuts again“, Allison asked, tears welled up in her eyes.

“No, baby girl”, Richard replied reassuringly, then added in a rather grim tone, “I believe someone is trying to make it look that way”.


Word count: 176. This story is in response to Flash Fiction for Aspiring writers photo prompt challenge. I exceed the allowed word count by (1 word) 😀 will try harder next time. This is also the fourth part on the series “Blackouts”: part 1, part2, part 3.

           Do you think Richard is genuinely trying to help his daughter, or is he just blowing smoke? 

Flash Fiction: Blackouts

Flash Fiction: Blackouts

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“Al-most there”, panted Allison as she made her way across the sandy path. She looked flustered; her dirty blonde hair was unsightly, face muddled with dust, eyes soggy from in-sufficient sleep or too much? She didn’t know which.

Allison had awaken to find herself, lying at the root of a leafless oak tree in broad daylight. She had no idea how she got there or for how long she had been lying there.

After a never-ending divorce battle with her now ex-husband, Allison decided to take a much needed break and rented an old house in the middle of nowhere. Just when things were beginning to look up, the blackouts began again. Allison realized the only explanation for her lying on a cold muddy ground was that her “blackouts” were back.

Panting as she made her way through the path, she noticed a signboard for the guesthouse she was staying- Boldly written was “Willow’s place”. Allison sighed, finally, almost there.


Word count: 160. This post is in response to Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. You are all welcome to join, all you have to do is follow the link and write a 150-175 word story on a picture prompt (supplied by the host) . I never thought I could write a flash fiction and now, I’m done with week 3 and can’t wait for 4! 😀