Literary Lion. How to say goodbye.

When it comes to blooms and eyes, two of my favourite tales from the last month have included Graham’s In His Mind’s Eye and Andy’s Her Flowers. A good excuse for some escapism if you haven’t read either already…

But the cat has put his poet’s hat on for this fortnight’s Literary Lion prompt, the word is “Limerick“. Being such a wordy writer myself, I decided to take the prompt literally, and have penned a limerick, but there are of course many other interpretations out there to find…

You have 14 days to tell your limerick worthy tale in 400 words or less. As always please tag your post with Literary Lion, remember to pingback to this post and point me in the direction of your stories on Instagram and twitter.

Here is my little limerick…

How to say goodbye.

The air moved a vacuum of sound.

With a blunt breath and eyes on the ground,

the mortal invaded,

through sunlight he waded

and silence was heard all the way down.

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Choke.

A four day week is an affair of proportions so glorious that it means Friday has come without my usual straggling spirit and dwindling dynamism. And so it is with my seldom felt Friday fizz that I bring you The Hemingway Day, and six words that together make a very jolly piece of flash fiction. What a difference a day makes.

choke

 Choke.

His veins strained as she squirmed.

Thanks to The Daily Post for the prompt, ‘Afloat’, which prompted me, for some reason, to think about suffocation, and the floating of blood amidst veins. Don’t judge me, I’m really a rather happy soul.

Buried.

Another task in my bid to become poet: An acrostic attempt at internal rhyme, on the theme of trust…

Buried.

buried

Lifeless her fingers lingered.

Ice at the tips.

Eyes vacant

Slits.

The Hemingway Day. Soul.

After my latest barrage of photos and words I decided it was necessary to give your inboxes a break, but I am back today with my old Flash Fiction Friday feature wrapped up in some brand new packaging… 

It was F Scott Fitzgerald that dared to tell the great Hemingway that he couldn’t write a story in six words. Hemingway delivered a literary KO with “For sale, baby shoes: Never worn.”. 

The Hemingway Day: Inspired by Ernest.

IMG_1501

Soul.

Her shadow still stood there, lingering.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_photo_challenge/gone-but-not-forgotten/

Death Sentence.

Day18Edge

Day 18 of photography101… “Edge”

Death Sentence.

Every now and again the glass would chime from the fluttering of limbs as he realised he was still incarcerated.