Sunday, October 13, 2024

We Will Have Our Time: Horror Flash Fiction

 


He had not been expecting a letter. He had written so many to her, and maybe in the beginning he had hoped for a response, even a form letter, but there was nothing. Well, she was busy; already 15 films and countless television appearances on her resume, and she had made it to the highest pinnacle of the A-list. She must have millions of fans, all writing to tell her how beautiful she was, how talented, how entrancing.

And yet, even though his letters had so much competition, he knew they would stand out to her; they had an undeniable connection, the two of them. He could feel it the very first time he saw her, in a scene from her first big movie. It was like she was looking right at him, speaking only to him, not to the so-called leading man who would only abandon her, both in the movie and later, in real life. She had looked so gorgeous and innocent, standing on a hilltop overlooking the ocean, her pale skin luminescent and her cascade of strawberry-blonde curls limned in the golden light of the setting sun. It was the perfect movie setting, but he knew they would one day be back at that very same place in the real world, together. We will have our time, he knew, and he signed all of his letters to her with this assurance.

It must bring her comfort to know that, he thought, because she had been having some trying times, lately: the breakup of her marriage to that Hollywood “golden boy”, the loss of the baby, the press hounding her for all of the intimate details of her life. He ached to provide a safe harbor for her, and he knew as soon as he received the long-awaited sign from her, he would be ready to take her to that hilltop overlooking the sea, where the sun was golden at sunset and the breeze blew gently. He would take her in his embrace and they would fall together, dropping through the welcoming water into the next world, where they would be together forever in love and happiness. He had related this wonderful scene to her in detail in the last several letters.

He looked around his dingy apartment, which was already beginning to fade from view, to be replaced with the lovely green grass, the gentle, salt-scented wind, her shining hair and sparkling eyes, the feel of her slender, warm arms encircling his waist as they stepped into eternity together…the sign from her had come; he was holding it in his hands even now. He fancied he smelled a faint scent of her perfume on the paper. Because of all the unwanted attention, she had chosen to disguise the letter as being from a law firm, but her name leaped from the page to his eyes immediately. The words “cease and desist” and “stalking” tumbled before his sight; they were meaningless jargon to cover her true message from the prying eyes that were everywhere. This was the sign!

He ran excitedly to gather his things for the trip: The street address of her home, complete with directions and satellite and street images, all provided by the trusty internet. He had also obtained her itinerary and was able to work out her schedule, as well as the information he needed about her security detail. He didn’t want their first meeting to be disturbed. He imagined how she would look, stunned at first, perhaps, that her message had brought him so far so quickly, then relief and delight would wash across her lovely face as she realized that she was finally safe and complete, with him.

We will have our time, he thought, finally!


image credit: https://www.pexels.com/photo/black-and-gray-rocks-and-body-of-water-3084567/


Sunday, May 26, 2024

Haiku Battle Rap



It's only haiku 

If you write in a special 

Pattern like I do 


It doesn't need to 

Rhyme, but I'm skilled so I will 

Ensure that seen to


I'll school all of you

Poets, come on and let me

See you fallin', boo


Photo by Mwabonje Ringa: https://www.pexels.com/photo/woman-holding-microphone-performing-on-stage-1460032/

Saturday, May 11, 2024

The Seven of Spades

Seven warriors in black armor

The spear is their weapon of specialty

They respond to the call of their sovereign:

Protect the kingdom!


Riding out in the light of dawn

They are a scouting party against the massing enemy

In single file they travel through the Narrows

Their captain takes the point


If he is struck down, his cadre has orders

Two will flee

The swiftest carry the message

The stoutest stay and fight


Defend the messengers!

Avenge the leader!

Die bravely, die fighting

Never die for naught.


Approaching a ridge in the evening gloaming

Darkness crawling across the moor

Nothing all day for the reconnoiter

Then at the ridge top, the heart drops


Fires of the camp dot the plain

Reaching out for miles, it seems

Glowing sparks of death, of defeat

Terrible, beautiful, terrible


Below on the slopes, they spot a chance

For a small raiding party to make a difference

The general's tent!

The captain locks eyes with his knights


Attack quickly, quietly

Strike the head of the beast,

The heart of the invasion.

We will die trying.


Two will stay

Someone must observe

Someone must report

The swiftest carry the message




 

Sunday, April 21, 2024

Hotel Room of Doom



The carpet smells funny
The AC's a joke
It grinds and it wheezes
The drapes smell like smoke

The sheets, cheap and scratchy
The blankets are pilling
I so need to sleep, but
My eyelids aren't willing

The trucks on the highway
Make windowpanes rattle
And upstairs it sounds like
A Civil War battle

The people are screaming
The furniture's moving
Are they fighting, or is it
Something else that they're doing?

I've finally dropped off
Then, MY GOD! What's the matter?
The bedside alarm goes off like a bomb!
Some joker has tuned it to in-between-stations
Then turned up the volume to an ear-splitting wail
And set it for ten minutes into my slumber

The obnoxious jerk should be rotting in jail
And I should be home, sawing some lumber
Instead I'm stuck here, with my brain getting number
As I try to count sheep; there they go, nose to tail

Then AGAIN with the clock-alarm blasting at me!
I'd only hit "snooze" in my stark desperation
I turn on the light, but my sleep deprivation
Renders me null to suss the combination
That will silence the thing; so in my frustration
I rip out the plug, realizing too late
That I could have just turned the volume way down
If ever I have to stay again in this town
I might as well sleep on a sewer grate!



Photo: https://www.pexels.com/photo/person-in-gray-long-sleeves-lying-on-a-bed-6951529/

Wednesday, October 18, 2023

You Are Invited to My Halloween Party!


 

Come to my Halloween party

Wear your vampire cape and sash

We'll eat little bat-shaped cookies

And do the Monster Mash


I'll make some fizzy green punch

That looks like a slimy swamp

We can pass out Groucho glasses

And dance the Zombie Stomp


We'll pull apart some cotton

Hang cobwebs everywhere

Put streamers on the ceiling

And pumpkins on the stair


It will be so very festive

An orange and black delight!

Please come to the lovely party

I'm having on Halloween night


Come dance at my Halloween party

I'm hiring a zombie band

They promise to behave themselves

And to not eat anyone's hand


The witches that live across from me

Have said they'll bring a cake

I'm pretty sure it won't have frogs

But we do live near a lake...


I had to invite the werewolves

If not, they'd raise a din

If you play any party games with them

You should probably let them win


Dracula's coming at midnight

Bringing his brides in pairs

The Invisible Man might show up, or not

(Depends on how much he wears)


Frankenstein's monster will be there

If he can get off of work

It's tiring getting chased around

By peasants with pitchforks!


He'll need a draught of fizzy punch

To chase away his gloom

He'll eat some bat-shaped cookies

And stagger 'round the room


So, come to my Halloween party

I think we'll have some fun

But to be safe, maybe you should buy

Silver bullets for your gun!


Image credit:https://www.pexels.com/photo/halloween-decorated-room-5435182/


Another Halloween poem you might like: https://theviewfrommounthelicon.blogspot.com/2022/10/bad-halloween-for-creature.html


Sunday, October 15, 2023

Other Roads



So many places I've never been

Roads continue on


All these houses, filled with people I will never know

An endless supply of humanity

An endless ribbon of road


I circle aimlessly, but with a goal

To see these places I've never seen

To see where the endless road goes


It's getting dark




Image credit: https://www.pexels.com/photo/house-against-sunset-sky-in-evening-4558442/

Saturday, July 15, 2023

The Jump - a Short Story


As I hit the sky, the plane dwindles quickly above and behind me. I drink in the vast, eternal blue, the wisps of white clouds, the good green earth below. I spread my arms to slow my descent, determined to enjoy my period of free fall, that amazing liberty of levitation that drives me to jump again and again. I feel immortal, ethereal, divine. Even as I enjoy my flight over the landscape, however, I am keeping careful track of my descent and its timing. Some daredevils might play chicken with their lives, but I don't need that kind of adrenaline spike. Much as I enjoy free fall, I won't delay opening my chute and not live to jump again. In fact, it is time to open the chute now.

Now.

The sky blue above me, the earth green below me; the wind lofting me up and singing my passage down. I reach over my left breast with my right hand, feel the handle to pull; the ripcord that will release my chute. As my hand closes around the rubber-padded plastic of the handle, I notice a red barn on the ground below. The barn is in good repair, with fresh red paint and gleaming white trim. I smile when I observe the weather vane perched atop the peaked roof. I'm not close enough yet to see the decorative finial atop the vane, but I imagine it is probably a rooster.

Now...

My hand clasps the handle of the ripcord which will release my chute, and I give it a good, swift, yank; a decisive movement that I have rehearsed and performed many times. The silken parachute, packed tightly, intricately, expertly, slips out of its cocoon to unfurl gracefully into a billowing cloud above me; my own personal cloud, which will bear me gently back to my home on the ground.

I wait for the familiar jerk of my harness as the chute abruptly slows my descent, but it doesn't come. The silk has not unfurled gracefully above me. My personal cloud has not appeared to bear me to safety.

Now.

I am stunned. Only for a second. Two seconds. In that time, I have fallen another 100 feet.

Now the red barn is larger. I notice that the barn has a loft, which gapes, dark and inviting with the promise of a warm burrow of soft, sweet-smelling hay. When I was young, I used to play in the hayloft of Mr. Godfrey's barn, and one day I was stung by a hornet. It hurt like bejeezus and swelled up for a couple of days. I would give anything to be back there now...

...Now, I glance at my right hand, still clutching the rubber-padded plastic handle with the useless ripcord trailing in the wake of my descent. I release my grasp, because I am going to use that hand to pull the release on my backup chute. I have never needed my backup chute before, but I have trained thoroughly on that, as well. Now, as the ground rises far too quickly and the red barn begins to loom large in my field of view, I reach to pull the release on my backup chute.

The sun is bright in the blue sky. The red barn blazes vibrantly in the lush and verdant landscape. The scent of clover wafts to me from below. The cool wind against my face freezes the panic sweat on my brow. The rush of wind in my ears seems to recede as I am enveloped in stillness, taking in every detail even as I plummet toward the grass below. The world is achingly beautiful.

Now, my hand engages the release for the backup chute, and it does emerge, slipping from its pack, up and away from me, where it spreads almost languidly into a silken bower above my head. I feel the long-sought yank of the harness as the parachute catches a full breath of air and tugs at me, attempting to keep me from harm, but I have fallen too far, too fast, and I will die today.

Now, in my last moment of life, I see clearly the weather vane on top of the red barn and the figure that surmounts it.

It is a horse.


Image credit: https://pixabay.com/photos/clouds-sky-day-blue-sky-cloudy-88523/