Categories
Micro Fiction

The Lolly Shop on Hope Street

The little boy followed the balloon through the Summer streets.

He knew nothing of the balloon except that it was red and tied with a glistening blue string: and that he must follow it, wherever the wind might float it.

And although the boy didn’t understand how he knew, still he knew the balloon was leading him home.

And so he followed.

And so the balloon lead him to the Lolly Shop on Hope Street.

Photo by David J. Boozer on Pexels.com
Categories
Fable

Perfect Mirrors

Sun and Moon sat beneath the willow tree, a picnic for two: a beautiful picture of one. Moon shining white on the river. Sun splaying gold on the rippling blue.

‘I miss you, Moon,’ said Sun, as he sipped tea and watched a fish flip into the glistening air above the river.

‘But I’m right here, Sun,’ smiled Moon, ‘And I’m always always in your heart.’

‘Well, why do I miss you, then? When you’re gone, why do I miss you so damn much?’

‘You don’t miss me, Sun. You miss you.’

‘Now you’re just being silly,’ said Sun as he tossed a rock into the river with a plump old splash.

‘It’s true,’ Moon smiled the glorious smile of all the world. ‘Have you not noticed, Sun, that when we laugh together you laugh just as much at yourself as you do me?’

‘Umm, I’ve not quite thought of it that way.’

‘And have you thought that maybe your love for me, is actually here to show you what your love for you looks like?

‘Moon?’

‘Yes, Sun?’

‘I love me an awful lot, don’t I?’

‘Yes Sun, you do,’ Sun and his sweet silence fell around her like the warmest hug.

Best friends, perfect mirrors.

There to help each other light the world.

Categories
Sun and Moon

Best Friends

‘Sun?’

‘Yes, Moon?’ Sun dribbled out the corner of his frown, watching drearily as a group of star children skipped along a cloud.

‘When was the last time you laughed?’

‘Umm…Oh, I can’t remember, Moon. Too long ago.’

‘Sun?’

‘Oh, what is it, Moon?’

‘Your face is covered in red crayon. It’s a picture of a hotdog running after a cat running after a dog.’

‘Well, that’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. And completely untrue. I’m perfectly shiny, thank you very much.’

‘Well, yes, you are. But you still have red crayon all over your face. I should know. I put it there,’ Moon grinned and gave a most spectacular sparkle.

‘What do you mean, you put it there?’

‘Well, Sun, you remember last week, don’t you? When you said: ‘Moon, when was the last time you laughed? And I told you I couldn’t remember…?’

‘Moon! There’s a giant shadow on the Earth, now. Look! It’s a hot dog running after a cat running after a dog!’

The best friends drew closer in the sky and gazed upon the newly decorated Earth.

And then the laughter came.

smiling women
Photo by Asya Cusima on Pexels.com

 

Categories
Micro Fiction

Lavender

They used to meet in the meadow and gather lavender.

How sweet it was to raise their faces and breathe.

How sweet it was, just to be.

Side by side.

Alive.

aroma aromatherapy aromatic basket
Photo by Jill Wellington on Pexels.com

 

Categories
Fable

Changed

The skies opened and the earth looked up.

‘My friend,’ said the dry earth, ‘is trying to drown me.’

Days passed.

The sky shone golden orange and the grass mounds of the south glistened, abundant in emerald foliage.

The earth looked to the sky, once more.

Changed.

Categories
Fable

Sun and Moon, Unconditionally

‘Sun?’

‘Yes, Moon?’

‘Why are the humans always so angry, do you think?’

‘Because Moon, they haven’t realised that, like us, they have the ability to shine.’

‘They do? So why don’t more of them shine, then? If they can, why don’t they?’

‘Moon…humans spend so much time telling angry stories, their shine gets lost beneath the mud of it all.’

‘Oh, Sun. That makes me so, so sad.’

‘Me too, Moon. It makes me sad, too.’

And as the night rose into the day, Moon and Sun continued to shine on the beautiful humans, without asking for anything in return.

Categories
The Darling Blog Of May

Darling Day 14. Liberation

Crisp walls and lavender fresh linen. It was her mother who insisted on such drastic perfection and, until now, it had never occurred to Geraldine that life had the option to be anything other than perfect. She would be forty in a month, and although her Mother would not approve, Geraldine craved something more. Something wild. Something actually really quite bad.

She flung a leg out of the bath and breathed into her belly: hold one, two three…a cool, soothing wind on the out-breath. What if she did allow herself a regression to the grotty child that once she was? An ignorant small human, who far too often muddied the guest couch—and her mother’s delightfully manicured day. A child who, one day, would find the courage to tell her mother that the couch had been, in fact, the hills coming alive with the romping, stomping wonderful sound of music.

Darling,‘ her mother would say, through a smiling mouth and chainsaw eyes. ‘You must always be good.‘ Eventually, the words and the eyes had the desired effect, and Geraldine did, indeed, grow into the neatly folded girl her Mother had groomed her to be. Perfection in a girl, life under strict lock and key. Geraldine was the fly in the web of her mother’s high standards. Alive but not living. Rotting away under the critical eye of the long-legged other in her life.

Her bathrobe waited to give her a warm hug after the bath was over. What if she didn’t use it? What if she stood, dried, and walked about the house. Naked. She lived alone, but even so, free range nudity was a luxury afforded only to men, and those unfortunate women requiring external stimulation for the treatment of low self-esteem. Nudity— even solo nudity—was not for good girls.

Until, of course, it was.

Geraldine rose from the tub and reached for the gracefully folded towel that lay atop the sparkling white sink. Perfection died tonight. Her mother’s hold on her life died, all limbs bared, tonight.

The soft leather couch was like warm paint to her naked skin. Although the liberation of nudity felt wonderful, it was…still not enough. Geraldine needed more. And so it was, that more arose.

As if by some miraculous order of the universe, some equally trapped eternal wind searching for life, the doorbell rang.

Geraldine smiled.

She rose from the couch, without a beat, without a care.

Darling, indeed, she thought.

Darling, indeed.

 

 

Categories
Life

Fear

‘Sun?’ said Moon, as she wandered along the path of cloud that lead to their shared home in the sky.

‘Yes, Moon?’

‘I’m afraid.’

‘Of what?’

‘Of everything. Of nothing, of…oh, I don’t know. I’m just afraid.’

Sun stopped abruptly on the path and turned to take Moon’s hands in his own.

‘It’s okay to be afraid, Moon, but there is no need to be. Fear can only survive in darkness, and you are made of far too much light to feed it what it needs. Have faith. Your fear will be gone before too long.’

Moon didn’t quite understand what Sun meant. But she loved him and respected his wisdom. So she took a deep breath and focused on the shine he told her was the key.

And though the fear returned occasionally, it did not have a home within her. It only had visiting rights.

She could grow to be comfortable with that.

Categories
Life

Sad Women (Micro Fiction)

The arm chair she sat in had a wet cat funk to it, but Granny still sat there, day after day, moaning about how Pop never did the dishes, not a day in his whole life.

‘Old men don’t care that it’s a woman’s world, these days, love. Old men still think it’s their right to own their wife and treat her as they like,’ Granny said.

I felt for Granny, I really did. It was the daggers in her eyes that did it; the flash of the TV lit up inside of them like a raging inferno breaking through that dainty old lady face of hers.

I wasn’t much of a feminist, but Granny had me in the guts on those cat chair days.

And that’s how I knew I’d never be getting me one of those husband things.

There just wasn’t room in the world for any more sad women, like Granny.

Categories
Life

The Colours of Love

Sun greeted Moon in the afternoon sky with a flirtatious splay of pink-golden mist.

‘Darling Moon. Have I mentioned, this summer eve, just how dearly I love you?’

Moon blushed. ‘No, Sun. You haven’t. But even if you had, I wouldn’t have listened.’

‘But why not, moon? You listen to all my words. Why would you not listen to words as lovely as these.’

Moon sighed, and drooped a little in the sky. ‘These words are lovely on the front side, Sun. But the back of them are black, and black means I’ll have something to lose if I accept them with all of my heart.’

Sun scratched his head, unsure for a moment what to say. He breathed in a small puff of cloud to gather his senses, and then he smiled gently into moon’s eyes. This was the gaze that always calmed her.

‘Moon. There are no guarantees in life. It is messy. Sometimes, life can even be horrible. But in this moment I am so deeply in love with you that any moment beyond this one simply does not exist. Black does not exist within this moment, does it, Moon?’

Moon and her shine rose to their original place in the sky, feeling light and breezy. Sun was right. There was no black in this moment. In fact, the colour Sun had shone into her was the most beautiful shade of love she’d ever known. Perhaps she might accept it, after all. Perhaps she might accept it for all the moments after, too. If she continued to choose so.