Happy Tuesday Bonnie!
Retired shaggy guy. Nurses and surgeons are my heroes. An English Major Should Have Been, LH Guy explains a lot, Married to a Saint, What a Great Life We Are Having Together 🚫porn
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Happy Tuesday Bonnie!
Every Saturday night Brenda and Louise came to the dance hall in borrowed shoes and stitched-up clothing. They mended tattered hearts with each slow turn beneath the yellow bulbs strung like stars. Yet somehow they never tended to their own. #moonmystic
Good morning Brenda and Breakfast Crew! Keep fighting the good fight!
The front garden was no more than a sliver of earth, but Maeve still tended to it each morning, pulling weeds and whispering to the marigolds as if they were old parish friends. It wasn’t the big garden she dreamed of as a child, but it was hers and that’s what mattered. #2WordPrompt
Thank you!
Thank you!
In the roseate hush of that morning, the kind that seemed to have begun before time itself, she stood by the dresser, fingers grazing the rosette carved into its edge. So she began again with the resolve of someone who knows that to begin is sometimes the only way to survive. #inkmine
Thank you George!
Thank you George!
The bare fields lay creased, forgotten, and waiting for the mercy of spring. Wind moved over them stirring the brittle stalks that hadn’t known green in months. There was a kind of dignity in their stillness, as if they remembered better days but refused to beg for them. #vssdaily
The color palette of summer came never asking permission to vanquish the greens of spring. Jack went with the flow. He wore a shirt the color of ecru wheat, sleeves rolled to the elbow, with arms browned by fence work; his tan cowboy hat and panetella ever present. #bravewrite
Charlie was dead, another old friend gone. Jim went to the wake, a grand time with stories shared. Today he was clad in sorrow more than cloth, though the suit fit him well enough for the funeral. #vssmagic
The past is not behind me—it walks beside me, whispering in the accents of those I’ve loved and lost. Some mornings, I wake with its breath on my neck, soft as a lullaby, sharp as regret. The past is like a faithful dog. It waits at the door, eyes full of stories I swore I’d buried. #vss365
I relate more to the ghosts in my family than the living sometimes. The dead speak in the language of memory, not expectation. With the living, there is always the weight of change and misunderstanding. But the departed remain steady in my recollection, with their quiet certainty. #2WordPrompt
Finally some happy news. Congratulations!
She tried to scream, but the kudzu had slipped into her mouth, curling around her tongue. It was learning her voice. Her eyes widened with the terror of becoming a voice for something ravenous. The forest around her waited, still and expectant, for the first word that would not be hers. #vssdaily
Happy Sunday!
We were walking along the Great Atlantic Way in the Rachel Carson National Wildlife Refuge in Saco, Maine when I got hit by something. Splat. A guillemot landing on the rock above me had lightened her load before landing. When she stopped laughing, Eílis said it was good luck. Sure. #blueskyrelay
The child understood the school was a place of magic. Nevertheless, the child gasped as the paper crane she folded took flight, trailing sparks and song through the twilight. She sung along with the melody, the new verse her own. #bravewrite
Siobhan drew to the window to watch the moonrise. She felt drawn to the courtyard. Once outdoors she felt a strange energy. The moonlight kissed her flesh and turned it silver, as if the night itself had claimed her as one of its own. #vssmagic
Nothing gets by a kittie.
She was a tweener. Flat chested, but sharp in observation, she watched others with the quiet intensity of someone on the edge of becoming. It was a life lesson. The people who were her friends now valued the internal her. They would be friends no matter what developed. #2WordPrompt
Thank you.
She didn’t scream when they came. She had been chosen, and something in her blood had always known it. Now she wore the mark proudly, not as a curse but as proof that she had been chosen not for death, but for eternity. #blueskyrelay
Petra chanted the spell of becoming. This would be her last moments of being a humble quilter. She felt the spell rip through her like a gust of memory, tearing open the seam between who she was and who she had dared to become. #vssmagic
He said nothing as they walked, but the constellation Andromeda overhead seemed to speak for him. Each star flashed a message of love until at last he found his voice to propose marriage to Becca. #vss365
The boy stood back from his handiwork, mittens damp and grin wide, the snowmen smiling like it knew something about Catskill Mountain winters that the rest of us didn’t. But we had lived here all our lives. The only thing you know is that you don’t know. #moonmystic
Good morning Jaye! Keep spreading the love!
The light was low in the room where they had once danced, and the cold came not from winter but from her absence. He remembered how even the air had seemed to lean toward her. Now, the curtains hung still, untouched by breeze, and the cold pressed in like memory, quiet and unrelenting. #2WordPrompt
Bad choice of numbers. Freudian?
Always interesting, any way you are playing!😀
Happy weekend! Cheers Emily!
Naoko is fantastic. We are enjoying her prints.
Her gloves were trimmed with lace, and when she touched my arm, it felt soft, deliberate, and impossibly gentle. I didn’t move. Her touch held a promise, or perhaps a question, waiting to be answered somewhere in time. #vssdaily
True. I’m a fan of good not perfect.
Thank you.
Bad editing. Should have removed - made. Oh well.
Thank you for the heads up.
Thank you quill.
The mirror showed a strange version of himself. The formula was working. His features were already changing The good in him was already gone, dissolved into the glass like breath on a winter pane, leaving behind only the echo of a man who had chosen power over mercy. #vssmagic
We searched for the buried treasure. It had to be here. The map said it was so. However, the pungent earth being turned over with a rusted spade seemed to think otherwise, but none of us would say these words aloud. #vss365
There was a charge in the air around her that summer, like static before a thunderstorm, something electric and unspoken that made even the most casual glance could see. That summer, she was less a person than a warning: beautiful, volatile, and destined to change everything. #blueskyrelay
He moved through the crowd like a beat in a hip-hop track—syncopated, deliberate, and full of swagger. It was a bluff. He hoped that his faux attitude masked his uncertainty. #bravewrite
He put her letter aside for now. It was too much to grasp at once. On Saturday they had an enjoyable time at the museum or so he thought. Now here on Monday his hopes to build a life with her was ending with forty seven words. #2WordPrompt
Yes! Thank you!
The house didn’t creak from age; it groaned with something malignant, a presence that had rooted itself deep in the beams and whispered through the vents. The Overlook had once been a grand hotel, but too many dirty deeds by its occupants had made the place evil. #vss365
Suzanne joined the queue at the cemetery gates for the Halloween Hayride, not realizing until too late that everyone ahead of her was barefoot, silent, and slightly translucent. She turned around to run, but the Headless Horseman now guarded the gate. #blueskyrelay
Long ago he had locked his heart into cold storage. He had sworn off live, but fortunately he was a practical man. He kept the key within reach. So when the right one came along at last he brought his heart out to be warmed. #bravewrite
Michelle wore her grief like armor, and Greg thought that was the root of her smoking habit. His crusade was not so much to get her to quit as it was to find a way to vanquish her grief and mend her heart. He hoped coaxing light back into her heart would have a domino effect on her lungs. #vssmagic
James was back in his hometown by the Hudson. He walked the river path at dusk, the air thick with whispers full of the things he never said, the things that might have saved his marriage if he had only taken the time. But time as it always does moved too fast. #moonmystic
He found the letter in the corner drawer, beneath the maps. The maps were of regions of the world they never had gone. The letter decried their lack of travel and went a long way toward explaining why she had left him and now made Rio her home. #2WordPrompt
Yes! Thank you!
My dour old neighbour could rise to the occasion for a gala. We he he arrived he wore a jovial expression as if happiness were a costume tailored for parties, stitched with charm and just a hint of desperation to make his getaway as fast as he could. #vss365
I was looking through old photographs and found one of my college girlfriend. It looked like I had caught her by surprise. There was a tincture of sorrow in her smile, like rain diluted in honey, sweet, but not quite pure. It looked like, maybe, for a moment she saw our future. #blueskyrelay
We bought the farm sight unseen. The storage shed there leaned against the wind, its tin roof buckled and rusted through, and inside lay the bones of machines no one remembered how to use. Certainly not us. We called the local antique dealer and he took the lot. #bravewrite
The mirror had long abandoned its role as reflector; now it showed only what the heart dared not name. Those who stood before it did not see themselves, but the ache beneath their skin, the memory behind their eyes, the story they’d buried beneath politeness and time. #vssmagic
He had twelve volumes of poetry published around the world. He never did learn how someone like him, born in a house with no books and a father who spoke in fists, could come to love and write poetry, but he did, and it saved him in ways no social worker ever could. #2WordPrompt
My father had no success with applesauce. Something about them that the seals would not take.
My Dad used to can a bushel or two of them. They were delicious growing up. The syrup was nearly as thick as honey, an exaggeration but not by much. He did pears too, and of course stewed tomatoes. They were the basis for a great tomato sauce.
Thank you. It’s a sad one.
Yes it is, but the ones in the stores here have been meh. I have to get to a farm stand.
They seem to be the rage here this year. I generally stick to Guinness or whatever is the Sam Adam’s seasonal. Eílis plans to try one before the Summer is out but she is running out of time.
There was no ceremony to the handover of power - just a knock, a box, and the sound of something shifting inside it, eager to be let out. It was a mistake, a bad dream, but there was no getting the genie back in the bottle. Not yet. #blueskyrelay
Dee Anne wished she was not on her third espresso martini. Normally she could get the measure of a man pretty easily and recognize a line. Tonight, however, things were a bit blurry. She hoped her judgment was not. #bravewrite
Though her memories had scattered like dandelion seeds, the forest kept her grounded. It’s hush reminded her of who she had once been, and who she might yet become. In the stillness, she sensed a becoming. Something tender stirred in her chest, as if the earth itself believed in her. #vssmagic
Her hands, worn and lovely, moved over the piano keys. She played to remember her mother’s voice. The unsung lyrics rising in the familiar tunes were like a hymn too sacred for sound. #MoonMystic
I tried to melt her heart. She cynically said love was a game. The cruelty of past relationships had turned her into a Ice Princess. I am afraid she had been one for far too long. My affection, tender and unarmed, merely confused her, like sunlight in a room she’d forgotten had windows. #2WordPrompt
The dog, old as the hills now, lay beside me with sentient eyes, as if he too was thinking about the breakup. He had a sadness about him and when he looked at me he seemed to say that I had messed up again, that I needed someone, and he would not be around forever. #vss365
The old castle still bore the faded banner of its coat of arms, a ghost relic of loyalty fluttering in the breeze. Once the Barrys were a respected clan of Cork. Today many are like me, shanty Irish on a distant shore. #vssdaily
I think it is the best tasting.
Looks awesome Jaye!
Hooray for Steve!
Greetings from Cape Cod Brenda and Breakfast Crew! I hope your Mondays are terrific!
He sat in the waiting room and watched the clock. It moved at a glacial pace. He tried reading an aged magazine or two. It did not help. Still he waited to be called in the the doctor’s office. #blueskyrelay
He bit into the peach and the juice ran down his chin. He wiped it away with the back of his hand. It brought memories of being a young boy when the world was new. There was so little sweetness in his life now. #bravewrite
Release from grief didn’t come with the funeral, nor the wake, nor the whiskey. It came when the wind lifted the curtain and he swore he heard her laugh and for the first time since the earth took her, he let himself breathe without apology. #vssmagic
It was a sad thing, truly, how the years came and went without ever asking if we were ready. Now Charlie was well on the road to kingdom come. Time, that old thief, had come and gone with him, and left behind only the ache of things unfinished and the echo of his laugh in the parlor. #2WordPrompt
Growing up in Upstate NY there was not a lot of horses, only at County Fairs and such, not we had cows, lots and lots of them. Dairy cows mostly. In baseball, we had leather gloves and we would oil them to keep them from getting coarse and cracking. That’s my nice memory of leather.
Wow. Just wow.
Leather is a smell that lingers. I get that.
I was always fascinated by mermaids and dolphins as a small boy.
Well said!
As a boy under the Summer Night sky, Sean imagined each star as a guide to a different destiny. Indeed he did follow his own star. Now in later life he occasionally had doubts about the star he followed. However, he chased away thoughts of what might have been by thinking just as well. #vssdaily
2 strong coffees. 🤣🤣🤣
As I get older I find myself feeling this more and more and sadly about more and more people.
My girlfriend in college had the posture of someone who’d studied ballet, not the pirouettes mind you, but the quiet dignity of standing still while the world spun, no mean trick in the seventies. She withstood the whirlwind that was me for a few years, but ultimately she valued maturity #bravewrite
Thank you George. So true.
She was the seventh daughter of a seventh daughter, born with brine in her veins and a voice that could summon storms from the stillest waters. Now under a full moon she lay waiting on the rocks for her transformation to a mermaid. She had never liked her legs. A tail suited her style. #vssmagic
The finish on the saddle was honest, earned in long rides through coulee and cottonwood, and when the wear finally cracked the saddle, it was like the land itself had spoken: enough. Well done old friend. #2WordPrompt
In the cathedral, the bass of the large pipe organ rolled like thunder across the pews, and he felt his mother’s hand again, his small and trembling within it, as if time had folded in on itself. #vss365
“You’re not like the others,” she whispered to the humanoid clone, tracing the scar where its programming module had once denied it love. The accident of Alpha Centauri had deprived it of peace, but having emotions was so worth it. #blueskyrelay
Thank you.
The country itself felt malformed, stitched together by treaties and grudges, and every field seemed to whisper of the men buried beneath it. In the silence between seasons, you could hear the land grieving with the quiet persistence of a wound that never quite learned how to heal. #vss365
China closet. I hate autocorrect
She wore a bold red scarf and didn’t speak much, which made the men nervous in a way they couldn’t name. It wasn’t the color alone, but the way she moved through the room, deliberate and silent, as if she knew something they didn’t. #bravewrite
Jack saw the selkie in its seal form- a silver-eyed creature with a scar like a bishop’s crook - and the boy swore it sang his mother’s lullaby before vanishing beneath the waves. His mother had left him two years before taking only her beautiful coat. How he missed her! #vssmagic
Sometimes you speak his name aloud just to hear it again, to prove the world hasn’t swallowed him whole. It’s not prayer, not quite, but something close - refusing to let silence win. And though the indifferent world moves on, you speak his name once more, and for a breath, he is here. #moonmystic
The dog, old as the hills and twice as loyal, knew when to enter the room and when to stay back, which was better than most men. For fourteen years the dog had been his companion and when it died he cried and cried all day. #2WordPrompt
Megan’s life had been difficult. She needed an outlet for the storm inside her, and painting gave shape to what words couldn’t. People might not get what she meant in her paintings, but they surely got what she felt. #vssdaily
A sonic boom shattered the afternoon calm as the jet crossed the sound barrier. It rattled our chins closed and scared the neighborhood dogs. Such things were normal then. It was the Cold War and we were in the flight path from an airbase. #blueskyrelay