Bewildered

blue_skyPhotograph © Yuhu Tama

As I walk back home, I notice that my clenched palm is desperately trying to retain the warmth of your touch. The cool breeze brushes across my skin like a wave, flashing me with images of moments we had just spent together. I take my place on a bench to reflect.

The long walk in the woods had been perfect. I remember how the little squirrels  scampered away at the sound of our laughter. I realize that I haven’t  laughed that much in a long while.

As the evening exiled the sun, I had embraced the darkness as your fingers began to trace the contour of mine. I recall how the touch of your cool fingers had spread ripples of  warm delight through me. As I relive that moment, a smile dawns on my face.

I see that the gravity of your personality could easily warp time. What felt like just a short while had turned out to be hours, in reality. I wonder how one person could be this interesting. A small voice begins to emerge from within me. “How long will this last?”, it whispers. I look at the crescent moon shining dimly above. Soon, it would be its time to fade into darkness. I feel lost without an answer.

Every breath I take echoes, within me, the fact that the time I have with you could be limited. The cool breeze begins to turn into a chill. Unsettled and Bewildered, I stand up and slowly walk back home, trying to calm the storm that has started to rage within me.

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The Candle

flamePhotograph © Yuhu Tama

 

Piercing the sheer darkness,

with its burning sword, a candle charges.

The Black now starts to dissolve,

Without tapering the candle’s resolve.

 

The acceptance that the world is dark,

ignites the candle’s spark.

Although it may die one day,

for many it would’ve shown the way.

 

A candle’s light is Temporary,

but is it less extraordinary?

With different shades to its flame,

what it reveals is never the same.

 

I believe such a light glows within you,

regenerating each day into something new.

Fuel your light by sound reasoning and thought,

for it could help another connect many a dot.

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The Illusion

FRIDAY FICTIONEERS PHOTO PROMPT

danny-boweman-1PHOTO PROMPT © Danny Bowman

WORD COUNT: 100

Lastly, Anne wore the high heel shoes, the ones to be stripped off first. The mirror reflected a girl with blood-red lips and smoky eyes, someone oddly familiar to her.

She blankly stared into her mug as she stirred the milk and coffee. The swirling white milk reminded her of the path to the hillock, behind her home, in the country. Her eyes closed to picture the simpler, happier times.

“Candy! You’re up!”, called a gruff voice.

Anne became Candy, as she walked up to the pole.  Tonight, the stage would be her hillock and the pole, a beautiful tree.

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Yuhu’s Corner:
This story is a part of the Friday Fictioneers Photo Prompt Flash fiction challenge. Every Friday, a photo prompt is provided by the organizer Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. The participants have to come up with a 100 word story. You can check out the other entries here.

Ms. S-S-Stammerson

FRIDAY FICTIONEERS PHOTO PROMPT

smallpox-hospital-roger-bultotPHOTO PROMPT © Roger Bulltot

WORD COUNT: 99

Anne absently caressed the ivy that decorated the walls of the old building. The jeering chants, “Ms. Stammerson”, resounded inside her, turning her deaf to the evening’s silence.

“D-D-D-Don’t cry!”, she told herself.

She closed her eyes and began to hum. Soon, the ivy swayed warmly to her smooth voice.

“Wow! Sanderson!”, she heard someone exclaim. “I didn’t know you could sing!”, said George. “Wanna be the female lead? In… my… band?”

She eyed him suspiciously.

“Listen, my brother stammers too. I… I understand”, he said gently.

The golden sky gleamed. She felt it’d never been this beautiful before.

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Yuhu’s Corner:

I have missed participating in the Friday Fictioneers Photo Prompt Flash fiction challenge. Every Friday, a photo prompt is provided by the organizer Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. The participants have to come up with a 100 word story. You can check out the other entries here.

One windy evening

FRIDAY FICTIONEERS PHOTO PROMPT

dale-rogerson4

PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

WORD COUNT : 100

“It’s too windy outside. Look at those clouds!”, I exclaimed. Dad peeped outside the window and asked Mom with a smile, “Honey! Wasn’t it very much like this?”

Mom blushed.

“What’s this about, Dad?”, I asked.

“You father proposed to me, on an evening like this”, answered Mom. “In a very cheesy way”, she teased with a chuckle.

“Cheesy? Yeah! Too cheesy to make you cry out of happiness” retorted Dad.

Mom’s cheeks turned rosy in reply.

I smiled and noticed the moon concealed behind cloud’s certain. I wondered whether a love like theirs could be in store for me.

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Yuhu’s Corner:
This story is a part of the Friday Fictioneers Photo Prompt Flash fiction challenge. Every Friday, a photo prompt is provided by the organizer Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. The participants have to come up with a 100 word story. You can check out the other entries here.

Burn

candle_light

Photograph © Yuhu Tama

It is time for me to burn,

with the desire to learn,

the truth and to spurn,

the ways of my past. I shall turn!

Late, it is never, to yearn,

for a brighter dawn’s return.

 The value, I will discern,

 of what my flame could pattern.

One day, my own love, I shall earn.

Oh, yes! I shall earn.

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Yuhu’s Corner:

The photograph is blurred. Isn’t it? It vaguely resembles what I see once I remove my glasses. This is my entry for this week’s photo challenge. The theme is Focus.

Grandma’s banter

FRIDAY FICTIONEERS PHOTO PROMPT

sp-overgrown-summer-housePHOTO PROMPT © Sarah Potter

WORD COUNT: 100

Little Anne touched the bubbles on the freshly watered soil, within the neatly arranged pots, in her grandma’s green house. Suddenly she cried, “Look, grandma! Squibbly things”. Towering behind her, grandma saw the squirming worms in a pot. She laughed and said, “Squiggly, honey! Not squibbly. Don’t worry. They’re plants’ friends”. Sheepishly, Anne enunciated, “Squi-GG-ly”.

Years later

Anne viewed the overgrown state of the, once perfect, green house. She looked at her grandma, whose cane, now, served as her third leg, and said, “I’ll fix this, Gran”. Grandma beamed and said, “I’m sure the squibbly things have missed you, dear”.

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Yuhu’s Corner:
This story is a part of the Friday Fictioneers Photo Prompt Flash fiction challenge. Every Friday, a photo prompt is provided by the organizer Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. The participants have to come up with a 100 word story. You can check out the other entries here.

I wonder…

holding_hands

Original Artwork © Yuhu Tama

 

“Beautiful and svelte”,
I heard everyone say,
while I craved for what her fingers felt,
as she held his hand that day.

Was it warm and rough
the way I remember it to be?
Why did he fade away in a puff,
paying no heed to my plea?

I wonder what he felt,
as she held his hand that day.

Did she paint her love,
on the lines in his palm?
The lines of who, was once my dove,
are lost from the songs of my Shawm.

I wonder what she felt,
as he held her hand that day.

As the diamond ring shone bright that night,
the lovely bride glowed with pride.
Did he forget our walk under the moonlight,
his promise to stay, forever, by my side?

I wonder what he felt,
as she held his hand that day.

Did his pulse thunder,
like the time he held my hand?
I can’t help but wonder,
if I’ll ever understand.

What now belongs to her,
I know, was once mine,
With every fading year,
I know not, if these memories would still shine.

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Yuhu’s Corner:

It has been a while, hasn’t it? I hope you guys are all doing just fine.

Stay

blossomPhotograph © Yuhu Tama

I coiled within,
my very skin,
With every breath so hard,
my heart did char.

I swam in the night’s chill,
in the waters standing still.
“With my branches turning dry,
Would I ever touch the sky?”

“Yes”, you said,
kissing my forehead.
In that moment, your word set me free,
once again, I dared to believe.

I let my doubts sink,
as you made me think.
Questions danced within your tutee,
creating ripples of chaotic beauty.

With every insight,
I was strengthened inside.
In your touch, the dryness melted,
petals of hope bloomed, as my fears wilted.

Your love has made me see,
What I can truly be.
Promise that you’ll stay,
hold me tight and never let me sway.

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Yuhu’s Corner:

This poem is for those who have helped you change, see yourself better and have pulled you from the depths of your own lifeless coils of thoughts.