Poem: (Bop) “ Cold that Bites” #amwritingpoetry



Credit: Luke Stackpoole via Unsplash

We gasp in the night, the lunar moon bright,

The aurora sky turns green on sight.

In the fitful winter our breath nips cold,

Wind shivers through us in blasts that mold.

Our hands squished into warm gloves or mitts,

We quake and in the moonlight we sit.

Winter wonderland of frost this fresh night,

Snow drifts, inside warmth surrounds us tight.

A stark cold beauty forms, your cheeks they flush,

The sky ignites in deep colors paint brushed.

Slip-slipping for dear life on thin ice,

No matter you’re in skates that slice.

In layers of wool, down – feathers, be snug,

Warm your ears, heat your feet, blanket hug.

Outside ominous howls of wolves collide,

Cold shivers shake your body; go inside.

Winter wonderland of frost this fresh night,

Snow drifts, inside warmth surrounds us tight.

In aurora brilliance let us go on,

Hear the luminous moon’s mournful songs,

In the day we play despite cold concern,

And, in the house we stay, in heat learn,

There’s crystal beauty in winter’s rough breath,

But better to stay inside, no regrets.

Winter wonderland of frost this fresh night.

Snow drifts, inside warmth surrounds us tight.


Mandibelle. 2024 ©️ All Rights Reserved.

#MayDay 18: Joseph’s Star — “Lazy Afternoons” #amwritingpoetry


For Day 18, the prompt is Saturday Afternoon and Sunday Afternoon.


Credit: Annie Sprat via Unsplash.


I,

Once thought the —

World existed one,

Way; fell in toxic sleep.

I thought life was simpler, nice;

Now, I know the world’s,

Broken and,

Beat.

*****

I,

Thought that life,

Could be weekend noons;

Saturday or Sunday.

A relaxed place to dream, wander.

It was amusement;

Conversation,

Coffees, wine;

Sweet.

*****

And,

Certain days,

On Saturday’s;

We watched movies at theatres,

Munched buttered popcorn, drank pop;

We knew so little;

Also too —

Much.

*****

On,

Other days,

On Sunday after,

Church and lunch we plodded,

Off leash trails, dog zipping quick;

Talking, walking in —

Mellowed Sun–

Light.

*****

I,

Remember,

Many days, I’ll recall,

Such magnificent freedom —

In those weekend afternoons;

Imperfect, they glow;

Timeless, strange,

Light.

*****

Oh,

For more time;

Bittersweet moments,

Long sweet lazy afternoons.

And someday soon — I’ll renew,

Those memories,

Slow.

*****


©️ Amanda_ME. (2020) All Rights Reserved.

#NaPoWriMo Day 26: Poem — Cascading Etherees — “Summer Dreams” #amwritingpoetry


For NaPoWriMo Day 26, the prompt is: to fill out the questioner below and use your answers to write a poem.

Almanac Questionnaire

Weather: 20 degrees spring warm
Flora: gerbera daisy
Architecture: bi-level 1960’s but renovated
Customs: hmmm … the usual I guess. Watching Netflix together
Mammals/reptiles/fish: dogs any kind almost
Childhood dream: get my masters, who knows what else
Found on the Street: leaves, old fliers from fall
Export: hockey, maple syrup,
Graffiti: the writings on the wall
Lover: none
Conspiracy: fell from reality
Dress: bright blue
Hometown memory: hockey games — in new arena two Christmas’ ago
Notable person: Gretzky
Outside your window, you find: bricks, a fall
Today’s news headline: corona virus
Scrap from a letter: God comfort and save you
Animal from a myth: Minotaur
Story read to children at night: Fierce Bad Rabbit
You walk three minutes down an alley and you find: I’m a block away from the park
You walk to the border and hear: no one allowed though
What you fear: too much right now
Picture on your city’s postcard: Edmonton with Dawson bridge arches and high level bridge at night during Canada Day


Credit: Ben Ashby via Unsplash.


There’s something about spring warmth, lush sun drops,

Lifting heavy eyes, no more shadows.

Same house, now renovated,

Filled with sharp childhood memories.

Or, a new memory where,

We fill silence with —

Netflix, Hula;

Love and war.

Constant —

Still.

*****

We,

Manage,

To dig in–

Plant Gerbera —

Daisies, tilting heads.

Colors nodding towards,

Daylight where dogs bark anthems,

Howls in the parks; hellos snuffled.

Waggly trust compels, despite naivety.

*****

Staring down at red-bricked patio bricks,

My bedroom window sill sits above.

Consider lingering starry —

Daydreams; eternity —

In a water drop.

Time wandering streets.

Leaves crunched to dust;

Grass verdant,

Sprouts.

*****

Then,

Rubber,

Duckies squeak.

Shelf mantle piece.

Decorative, or —

Meaning lost in words, how?

Missing those good old days —

Old hockey games, lingering beyond.

Writings on the wall, people influx,

COVID each word; stop sickness with distance.

*****

Praying hard, with desperation, and pain;

Come again another liquid summer.

As sweet rain equalizes heat;

Dry dust that clambers, still aches.

Fight past ‘Fierce Bad Rabbits,’

Childhood echoes of —

Conquered hurts deep;

Minotaurs —

Fierce Slaughtered;

Victory,

Let sleep.

*****

In,

Parks, all’s —

Spring gorgeous,

Peeps; pups yipping.

Amidst nighttime echoes,

Inky sky, stars glimmering;

No vague hope, much possible.

Sky brights, Dawson bridge arches tall —

Stunning blue;’ high-level’ shimmers —

Pouring multicolored wisdom over black.

*****

Then, my thoughts cease; footsteps towards rest,

Home; I wish the world turned quicker.

Maybe, slower? Accounting aspirations —

Serenity, tranquil —

Lazy days, cerulean.

Sleep, rest soft, quiet.

No noise, no threats;

In comet tails,

Discover,

Ease.

*****


©️Amanda_ME. (2020) All Rights Reserved.

Three Line Tales: Fiction – “ A Dog’s Life.” #amwritingfiction


Thank you to Sonya of Only 100 Words for hosting #3LineTales.

Credit: Ben Williams via Unsplash.


A growl escapes Pepper as her furred body tenses and her mahogany eyes narrow, “Hey you, this is my street; stay on your own side — don’t come any closer.”

She leaps against the fence on hind legs, then her growls turn to high pitched yips of joy.

“Hey, Mom you’re home, I didn’t realize it was you; I’m so happy to see you– you’ve been gone forever!”


©️Mandibelle16. (2019) All Rights Reserved.

Interview with Sarah Whiley: Writer, Blogger, Teacher, & Future Author #interview #nonfiction #amwriting #nonfiction


Welcome to another writer/blogger interview. Today I’m interviewing the wonderful, talented, and gorgeous Sarah Whiley who I have come to know through the prompt website MindLoveMisery`s Menagerie (MLMM). Sarah`s personal blog is called: By Sarah. You can also look for her to do the Saturday Mix prompt on MLMM. Here`s the link to last week`s prompt: Same Same but Different December 30.


Sarah Whiley Interview Pic 1
Credit: Sarah Whiley


1. Sarah, Please Tell Us About Yourself? What Are Your Writing and Blogging Goals? What Do You Hope to Accomplish by Writing? 


My name is Sarah Whiley and I live in north-east Victoria, in Australia. My blog is: ‘By Sarah. I’m a primary school teacher of 17 years and have taught all ages from 5 to 12 years old. I have always loved writing since I could pick up a pencil and create. I am passionate about instilling this same love of writing in my students.

In order to do that, it is important that I see myself as a writer – as an author in my own right. This is what I am hoping to accomplish by writing and blogging. I am so fortunate to live where I do. They don’t call Australia the “lucky country” for nothing!


2. Tell Us About Where You Live and What You Love About It?


I’m originally a city girl from Canberra, and later, Melbourne. I have enjoyed the spoils of both cities’ such as the cosmopolitan cafes and restaurants, nightlife, and their unique cultures.

When I met my husband and moved to the country! I love the wide- open spaces, the varying landscapes and the bush. I am now an avid bushwalker and spend most weekends out and about, communing with nature.


“I am a primary school teacher of 17 years and have taught all ages from 5 to 12 years old. I have always loved writing since I could pick up a pencil and create. I am passionate about instilling this same love of writing in my students. In order to do that, it is important that I see myself as a writer – as an author in my own right.” – By Sarah Whiley 


Sarah Whiley Pic 2
Sarah Whiley

 


3. When Did You Begin Writing and Blogging and Why? What Does Writing Mean to You? 


My journey with blogging began five years ago, after a series of personal setbacks and issues. I commenced blogging primarily, as a cathartic experience to help me work through my thoughts and feelings. Once I no longer ‘needed’ my blog, I had a small break, however always felt something was ‘missing.’

After attending professional development for helping me teach writing, I realized, the hole that blogging and writing had left in my life!

I started my blog, ‘By Sarah,’ to explore my own creative writing, to explore myself, and my talent for writing. I have, particularly, enjoyed writing short stories and poetry. An unexpected bonus to continued blogging has been the great friendships I’ve gained in the WordPress community; I have established so many along the way.


4. Where Do You Find Your Inspiration and Motivation to Continue Writing and Blogging? Why Is It Vital for you to Keep on Writing? 


I have some seeds of ideas stashed away in my writer’s notebook. I tend to work on these pieces over a long period of time. For other ideas, I rely on a range of prompts. I feel it’s important to write regularly in order to develop my skills and continue to write and maintain it as a habit. Also, I experience a great degree of stress relief from writing.

Moreover, as a teacher, it is easy to get stuck in a cycle of hyper-vigilance and not to give yourself enough ‘down time’. I find a variety of prompts extremely helpful for motivating and inspiring writing for myself and in my teaching.

As well, I have a schedule of sorts and I endeavor to write every day aside from Wednesdays (which is my ‘well-being-do-nothing’ night!


 

Sarah Whiley Group Pic 3
Credit: Sarah Wiley

 


“For other ideas, I rely on a range of prompts. I feel it is important to write regularly in order to develop my skills and continue to write and maintain it as a habit. Also, I experience a great degree of stress relief from writing.” – Sarah Whiley


5. What Are Your Writing and Blogging Habits? Do You Prefer Writing a Certain Time of Day? 


I set aside time each day to write. Usually, I can be found on the couch with a dog or two keeping me company, along with some background noise from the TV (I am one of these people who can’t concentrate when it’s quiet). I enjoy writing poetry most. I have a knack for rhyme and rhythm and find it easy to whip up a poem.

As well, I have been challenging myself to explore other types of writing and short stories to extend my skills. I don’t write in the mornings as I am in a rush for time once I wake up. I rush out the door to teach school, but I write after dinner, sometime between 7:00 p.m. until 10:00 p.m. at night. I find Tuesdays and Thursdays to be my busiest and most productive days.


6. What Are Your Most Current Writing or Blogging Projects? Do You Have Projects Outside of Your Blog Involving Writing? Do You Plan on Publishing Any Writing in the Future? 


Currently, I am undertaking Sammi Cox’s  ‘A Month of Mini Writing Challenges’ and have am the new host for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie’s ‘Saturday Mix’. Outside of my
blog, I keep a writer’s notebook and am busy maintaining a Class Dojo Story (similar to a blog) for my classroom.

I will soon be published as a feature writer in Linda J. Wolff’s upcoming eBook. Linda runs a fantastic Urban Poetry site and I was the winner of her Fibonacci poetry competition earlier this year. At the end of the year, I plan to convert my blog posts for 2017 into a self-published collection for family, friends, and anyone else interested.


Toa Hefitaba Sarah
Credit: Toa Hefitba via UnSplash


“I will soon be published as a feature writer in Linda J. Wolff’s upcoming eBook. Linda runs a fantastic Urban Poetry site and I was the winner of her Fibonacci poetry competition earlier this year. At the end of the year, I plan to convert my blog posts for 2017 into a self-published collection for family, friends, and anyone else interested.” – Sarah Whiley


7. Can you Briefly Describe Your Writing Process? What Do You Think Will Be Your Process of Self-Publishing Your Writing? 


Being a teacher, I find the writing process natural and not something I have to think too hard about. Storytelling and explaining my ideas is something I innately do. Upon analysis of my writing, though, I definitely follow six-traits in my writing process including ideas, organization, voice, word choice, sentence fluency, and conventions.

After I am happy with a final piece, I often bounce it off my husband or my mum, seeking their feedback. They are a tremendous help to me and improve the end result of my stories and poems and their overall flow. When I self-publish at the end of the year, I am investigating the use of the ‘Blook-Up Service.‘ (As Sarah gave me these answers super-quick back at the end of August or September, please ask her about the progress of her book and her published poem!!).


8. Do You Prefer Certain Areas of Writing and Reading Genres? And Do You Have Any Helpful Advice for Other Writers and Bloggers Starting Out? 


Well, I’m definitely drawn to the dark, somewhat macabre styles of writing. My pieces often take a dark turn or have a twist at the end. I am not a fan of science-fiction or fantasy, at all, but I prefer supernatural, horror, thriller, crime, mystery, drama, historical, and biographical works.

My advice for new bloggers is:

  • Write what you know. Capturing a small moment in time can sometimes produce the best piece of writing! Also, go with the flow….literally! Don’t overthink it. Go with your ‘stream-of-consciousness’ and see where it leads.
  • Find like-minded people. Better to have fewer blog followers and likes, and better to have more feedback from those few who ‘get’ you and your writing, those who appreciate your efforts! Quality not quantity as they say.

Sarah Whiley Hiking 4
Credit: Sarah Whiley and Her Beautiful Photography!!


Find like-minded people. Better to have fewer blog followers and likes, and better to have more feedback from those few who ‘get’ you and your writing, those who appreciate your efforts! Quality not quantity as they say.” Sarah Whiley


9. Is There Anything Else You Would Like To Share With Us About Writing Or Yourself? 


My experiences growing up in a large family and my relationships with my siblings have certainly shaped many of my ideas and stories! I am the eldest of six children (No, we are not Catholic!). My mum just wanted another son and kept trying until she got one! It’s ironic how she wanted four boys…she ended up with four girls! Despite the large age gaps between some of us, we are reasonably close and hang out together and, at times, travel together.

Also, I LOVE to travel. Whether it be exploring local gems, interstate expeditions or overseas adventures. I am curious and interested in the world around me. I soak up information and facts like a sponge (you never know when they’ll come in handy for a trivia night!) I enjoy nothing more than experiencing new things. I adore the outdoors and take every chance (money permitting of course!) to jump on a plane and go somewhere different.

As well, I love New Zealand and have holidayed there four times now – with plans to go back! I have also traveled to the US (including Hawaii), England, France, Italy, Switzerland, Spain, and Indonesia. All of these factors have helped develop my writing.


10. Can You Briefly Tell Us About Some of Your Favorite Blogs? What Do You Like Most About Them? 


Gosh, it’s hard to name a few. There are a lot of my WordPress friends whose work I truly respect and enjoy. But, if I have to narrow it down, I would have to say:

  • Jane Dougherty Writes – Jane has a wonderful turn of phrase and is able to use colorful words to create great imagery in her poems and stories.
  • God’s Chair – Jael Sook is an engaging and diverse poet and writer and I thoroughly enjoy her work, anticipating each post she makes.
  • RedStuffDan – Dan is an incredibly artistic photographer. His subjects include Bordeaux vineyards, local village life, architecture, doors, mirrored
    images and digital photography as art.

11. Can You Please Share With Us a Few Links from Your Blogs:

TASI

By Sarah Whiley

*Inspired by “Whiskey In the Jar” Music Prompt

*****

 

Tasi Sarah
Credit: Sarah Whiley

 

*****

My summer holiday in Hobart, Tasmania had not begun quite as I had expected. A thunderstorm, a severely delayed flight, and an inaccessible hostel topped off with some bitterly cold weather that I had most definitely not packed for. Finding myself with a few hours to spare, I decided that a stroll around the CBD to orient myself was in order.

The gathering, dark clouds had other ideas.

I had no sooner ventured out onto the streets when the skies opened and a torrential downpour began. Cursing, I sought cover under the awnings of the few shops that had them.

And that’s when I saw it from across the street. ‘Lark Distillery’.

I have never been a whiskey drinker, but I could not resist the pull of the plume of smoke coming from the chimney, nor the cozy 1800’s building that housed it. I ran across to the front door and pushed it open.

Immediately, a warm, yeasty aroma hit me. Unsurprisingly, I was the only patron. The young man behind the ba took in my sodden, street-urchin appearance, and without a trace of disdain, offered me a tasting.

‘But I don’t really drink whisky,’ I protested. ‘Can I just stay in here until the rain passes?’

‘Sure,’ he replied. ‘But why not have a little taste, just to pass the time?’

He took a glass and bottle from the shelf behind him and sang a few lyrics of the Metallica song, ‘There’s whisky in the jar oh.’ He winked, and with that, I took a seat at the bar.  I felt somewhat lonely amongst the long row of empty bar stools. Clearly, they were used to a greater custom.

‘So what would you like to try?’ he asked.

‘I’m in your hands,’ I admitted. ‘What would you recommend?’

‘Let’s start with the single malt. It’s a classic,’ he advised.

He poured a sample into the glass. The glug-glug and almost syrupy quality of the liquid was mesmerising.

‘This whisky is double distilled in locally crafted copper-pot stills and aged in small, 100 litre oak casks. We store our spirits for 5-8 years in smaller barrels for faster maturation,’ he explained.

I took a sip and promptly spluttered. He laughed.

‘Try throwing it back in one go,’ he suggested.

So I did.

After the initial burning sensation and urge to cough, the most amazingly delicious warmth spread from my belly to my brow.

‘Mmmm,’ I approved. ‘Nice. Smooth.’

‘Well if you like that, you’ll love the cask strength. It’s got the same smoothness but is more full bodied due to a higher percentage of Tasmanian malt. It bursts across the palate with hints of maple syrup and sweet notes of highland peat.’

‘Right,’ I said, not having a clue what that meant. Irrespectively, I nudged my glass forward and said, ‘Hit me.’

And I threw that back too.

This bloke knows what he’s talking about, I thought. It was amazing. My palate was dancing and my whole body was alive. The rain outside had faded away, and I felt all toasty and warm and happy.

‘How much alcohol is in this?’ I demanded.

‘58%’ he replied, with a twinkle in his eye, as if he knew that I was feeling tipsy already. ‘How ’bout we mix it up a little? Wanna try some gin?’

‘Gin?’ I replied with enthusiasm. Now we were speaking my language! ‘Oh yes please! Definitely’.

Again, I pushed my glass forward.

‘Now, here at Lark, we do a gin each season,’ he explained, ‘that way we can capitalise on the unique flavours available at different times of the year. This one is our summer release.’ He poured a more than generous sample.

This time, before I drank, I lifted the glass to my nose. The aromas were incredible. Bold and beautifully sweet, I inhaled a balance of citrus and rosewater with undertones of juniper and coriander. It made me think of the warmth of the summer sun. It was almost as if I could feel it on my skin.

I drank and closed my eyes with satisfaction.

‘That was good.‘ I could hear my voice starting to lilt and slur with the effects of the high alcohol content. I sat with the gin in my hand and sipped from the glass again and again. As if wanting to savour it but devour it at the same time, until every drop was gone. I couldn’t wait to see what was next.

‘This is slainte,’ he declared. ‘This is very, very special. It was developed by one of our owners in response to the strong demand for a unique Australian whisky liqueur. Slainte is the marriage of our single malt whisky and a distilled spirit of herbs and spices. The two are carefully combined to give a complexity of character, spiciness and sweetness, while maintaining the overtones of the whisky.’

I could listen to this guy talk all day! I thought. Such passion for the product.

My head was swirling, and I though I still didn’t fully understand what this whisky was all about, I had decided I liked it. Very much. I slid my glass towards him.

‘Now, Tasi,’ he began, as he pulled out a new bottle from behind the counter, ‘Tasi is something different altogether.’

‘What is it?’ I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me.

‘Tasi is a unique herbal liqueur derived from a single native Tasmanian berry.’

‘I know about the Tasi berry!’ I interjected, surprisingly myself. ‘It’s actually called a Myrtus berry isn’t it?’

‘Yes, that’s right. It’s unique to Tasmania. So this really is something you can’t find anywhere else,’ he was speaking almost reverently. ‘Pass me your glass.’

Unlike any of the other tastings, he first scooped up some ice cubes and placed then delicately in the bottom of my glass.  Intrigued, I leant forward as he carefully poured. Tasi was a glorious deep yellow in colour and looked like liquid gold, flowing over iridescent rocks.

I will never forget that first mouthful. It was as if the liqueur curled around every inch of my teeth and gums. It stuck to my tongue and was like treacle down my throat. That liquid gold coated every surface it touched within my body and I felt like royalty. I smacked my lips approvingly and even moaned out loud. I appreciated every last golden drop and licked the ice cubes once my glass was drained.

He smiled.

He knew.

It was THAT good.

I bought three bottles and thanked him for his time, his advice and his expertise. The bottles clinked as I pulled the door open and reentered the world outside.

I did not notice if it was still raining.

And I did not care.

****

Sarah 2017©


12. Here Are Some More of Sarah’s Link’s to Explore!

Some of her favorite Short pieces:

Some of Sarah’s Poetry:


Thank you so much to Sarah for filling out the interview questions and providing such honest and thoughtful answers. I’m so sorry it took so long to put the interview together. This last past year has been crazy. Make sure to check out Sarah’s Blog: By Sarah.


I should have another interview out in the next couple of weeks, with no promises. If you would like to be interviewed and are a writer or blogger or if you blog for a cause, please reach out to me through my Contact Page. If you’re a regular, you’ll notice I’m playing around with my blog to update my theme. The Contact Page info also needs to be updated eventually.

Have a fantastic week!


©Mandibelle16. (2018) All Rights Reserved.

#OctPoWriMo 27/Music Challenge:  “I Swear I Lived” #amwriting #poetry #musicchallenge 


OctPoWriMo 27 has a theme based on our favorite flowers. Somehow I’m going to combine this prompt with MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie Music Challenge song on “I lived by OneRepublic. 

Credit: Kawan Harasai via Unsplash

—-

“I lived” – OneRepublic 

——

With every broken breath, 

I swear I lived. 

Pettles in my hands, soft, floating in the wind. 

Never forget to slow down, 

Tred through daisies. 

As our dogs on their walks, 

Burying our nose in the fragrance. 

Inhaling life with resilience, 

Clutching each moment, 

As if it’s the last. 

Not afraid to touch —

The sun and run, 

Using each spare second. 

Fearless with triumph, 

A will to survive

Ignore the broken bones, 

They’ll heal, don’t build walls, 

Despite stumbling hard. 

Get back up, 

Carry on soldier. 

Give it all you have, unafraid to jump,

Raising your cup as the sun goes down, 

Toasting the journey. 

And with —

Choppy breath rasping, 

Gaspimg for air, 

Own every broken breath, 

For every tranquil —

Glittering moment in life, 

Keep pushing to survive. 

Bring meaning into moments,

Where you’re  —

Fighting to live, 

When you realize that life, 

Is the blessing you always desired. 

——

©Mandibelle16.(2017) All Rights Reserved. 


Saturday Mix: Poem – Villanelle – “Dog of the House” #amwriting #saturdaymix #dVerse #poetry 


Thanks to Teresa of MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie for hosting last Saturday’s Mix prompt based on ‘sounds‘ in certain locations. I’ll be combing it with #dVerse prompt on using a Villanelle style of poetry thanks to Frank Hubeny at Poet’s pub for hosting that. 

—— 

Credit: Edith Hill

——-

Quiet before the bustling crowds come out, 

An awkward silence, distant noise undefined; 

Then there is barking, a chorus sings, shouts —

Dog owners fumbling, sidewalks to new route —

Down verdant trails, nature whispers sublime, 

Many dogs scrambling, playing, all about,

The new dogs can’t win, woof triumphant shouts.  

Man’s best friend loves parks, rabbits smell divine.  

Aromas, squirrel chirps, bird tweets, still mouses. 

Mouse souvenir of pride for mom, on her couch; 

As Dad showers above, Mom’s scent resides, 

Flowers, citrus, sprayed here and there in spouts. 

Dad’s Dior cologne sprayed so thickly it clouds, 

Sneezing many times, scent too strong, despised

Mom’s heels click, goodbye kisses resounding

Leaning love, licking smacking kisses now, 

Mom’s laughter sprinkled, Dad’s chuckles confide,  

He loves me, she loves me; for this is my home. 

From a sick dog on the city streets found, 

Home protector, sonorous barks resound. 

——–

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved 

Flash Fiction for the Aspiring Writer: The Great Dachshund Escape #amwriting #flashfiction #pets #fiction


Thanks to Priceless Joy for hosting FFftAW.

——

Credit: Louise – The Storyteller’s Abode

———-

I was sitting on a ferry boat, on my way to a speciality grocery store, when I heard yelling and screaming from behind where I sat. A fifty-some couple were engaged in a physical and verbal sparring match with Peppy the dachshund literally in the middle. 

Margo, refused to give Peppy up to her ex-boyfriend, Simon.”He was my dog before we started going out, and he’s my dog now that we’re breaking up.” 

“That’s not fair, he’s part of my family now. Peppy sits by me most of the day because I work from home. He should be with me in the week. You can have Peppy on weekends,” Simon countered.

Margo scoffed and was about to jab Simon in the chest when Peppy managed to squeeze his way out from between both owners. 

They chased him down the steps and down to the plank where people walked onto the ferry. Peppy jumped in the water, the plank in the process of being removed, and swam to shore before running away. 

I wonder if Margo or Simon ever saw him again? 

——-

©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved. 

Sunday Photo Fiction: The Apparitions #flashfiction #WWII #amwriting #writing 


Thanks to Alistair Forbes for hosting SPF. 

——

A Mixed Bag

——–

The submarines of old stood out in the San Diego Harbor as Carla walked Bruno and Velma the dachshunds. 

After tiring out both dogs, she paused to gaze at the submarines along the walkway. It didn’t appear as if any navy personnel had worked on them in over seventy-five-years. 

The subs were relics of WWII, but Carla knew many men had died and been terrified for their lives in such submarines. The US had used them effectively ‘island hoping’ to help defeat the Japanese, after Japan’s attack on Pearl Harbor. Of course, the bombs had sealed the deal. 

Suddenly, the dachshunds began to bark and yip ferociously. They pulled on their leashes willing Carla, their Mom, to go home. 

She gazed back at the submarines one last time and let out a frightened shriek. Upon the old submarine, a ghostly navy crew with 1940’s uniforms, walked atop the sub performing their duties. They stopped, noticing Carla, and turned to whistle at her as if she was some wartime doll for kicks

When she blinked again, the apparitions were gone. Carla decided she needed something stronger in her coffee this morning. Maybe she’d forget the coffee part altogether. 

——

©Mandibelke16. (2016) All Rights Reserved. 

Notable Quotes October 2016 Part One #quotes #pinterest


1. 

http://www.pinterest.com

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2. 

http://www.pinterest.com

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3. 

http://www.pinterest.com

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4. 

http://www.pinterest.com

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5. 

http://www.pinterest.com

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6. 

http://www.pinterest.com

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7. 

http://www.pinterest.com

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8. 

http://www.pinterest.com

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9. 

http://www.pinterest.com

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10. 

http://www.pinterest.com

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11.

http://www.pinterest.com

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12. 

http://www.pinterest.com

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13. 

http://www.pinterest.com

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14. 

http://www.pinterest.com

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15. 

http://www.pinterest.com

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