Cenote
Glittering azure
Crystal-cool and comfortable
Bright fish swimming
Scales tickled with light
And below
Caverns, endless
Blue to green to inky black
Pressure and darkness
Pulling
Pulling
Down
Nameless mystery
Crushing truth
Apocalyptic Apoplexy
We walk streets
replete with gargantuan gastropods,
gullies where gaseous argon
drifts like bygone clouds.
Hypoxia thus induced,
we hallucinate colors,
smells—and feelings—now extinct.
This apocalyptic apoplexy
is its own panacea.
Yup: Things just got weird. This alliterative gem (note: sarcasm) is my response to this week’s Trifextra challenge, which was to write 33 words on anything that struck our fancy.
People are sure to be all over the place with this one, so check out all the great responses over at Trifecta.
Happy weekend everyone!
Summer
Responsibility
is the artifice of adulthood.
We are industrious
in our pursuit of complication—
of noble strife.
Promotions, office drama, coffee preferences,
scraping cents.
But summer
is the soul’s breath.
Sunlight.
The Kingdom
In legend is a kingdom,
far-flung and rooted
in the perfect traditions of nature,
where trees,
heavy-hung with fruit,
line leafy walks (and there is time to walk them).
Are you there now?
For this Trifextra, since it’s such a nice day out and it’s almost the weekend, I thought I’d take a lighter approach (guess I’m just in that mood this week). The prompt was simple enough: Use at least one compound modifier and write a 33 word story.
I’m looking forward to seeing what everyone comes up with. Head on over to Trifecta to find out!
In the Details
The night comes
and the devil wakes.
(His mind is restless).
You climb from bed in a rage
to confront the intruder,
but find only mirrors, faces—
and sins etched in the details
These 33 words are for the Trifecta Writing Challenge’s weekend Trifextra (I’m trying to do more of these shorter challenges). Click through for more micro stories, and have a great weekend!
Silence
Why is silence so unsettling?
Why do breathless nights and the sterile sounds of morning
shrink us
like shadows in the sun at noon?
Do the soundless, empty echoes
echo to us the emptiness of time?
Do the vast, unimaginable depths,
sound deep and hollow in their chambers
whenever silence reigns?