What to do between the silent secrets of stars?
Open the question at the crossroads of memory and your dreams.
Chase clouds of deep light.
Learn how to become a traveler in the unexplainable.
(in any order…)
For Jane Dougherty’s Sunday Strange Microfiction prompt, above.
lost and found
are reversed and
there is only one
For Jane Dougherty’s Sunday Strange microfiction challenge…an eerie illustration to a Russian folk tale by Ivan Bilibin, below.
There are some truly wonderful responses this week…go to Jane’s post and check them out.
My collage boxes, however, are still stuck in the between.
how come nobody
why inside why
And once again, as so often happens in these postcard fiction worlds, I see an opening that leads somewhere else…
And what will I give up?
Do I have to choose?
Will I know what I’ve done?
Or does someone take it?
The ghost of me breathing.
The step in the step back.
Cold light in warm darkness.
I will hold my shadow open.
for dVerse quadrille #26 ghost
we’re swimming in air
we breathe the stars shine
the waves send time deep
the moment faces the sea
tomorrow is eternal
Jane Dougherty’s Sunday challenge, below, inspired the usual shifting world. The tanka formed quickly from my word box.
Should we believe in yesterday? or tomorrow?
year of the rooster
tenth circle begins
chaos returned as crowing
drama and dissent
contain the fire, avoiding
eye contact with the Dark Side
The disruption of the Year of the Monkey gives way to more intensity….the cockiness of the Year of the Rooster. Most of the predictions I read online for 2017 were not too positive. They recommended keeping your head down, staying organized, and working hard.
And OK, that’s not really a rooster, it’s my interpretation of a basilisk. They do have the head of a cock, though, and wings on their serpent body.
Of course you know to have a mirror handy in case you run into one, so they can admire themselves to death. Or perhaps a pet weasel–the only creature immune to the basilisk’s deadly stare.
And the title?
“Confusion is a chicken with shattered eyes.”
That’s January 2017 in a nutshell.
rolling all over the place
always in pairs
“There is no rush”
really just the beginning
Claudia McGill is calling: time for another response. This time I painted the junk mail, and then collaged.
You can see other calls and responses here.