English #frapalymo: Fire of Love

Crack. Pop. Snap. Pop. Crack.
Your lips melt in my mouth
like marshmallows, gooey,
cloying on my tongue. The
fallen tree becomes our bed
before the fire, a soundtrack
to our exploration of one
another. Crack. Your hand
under my skirt. Pop. Kiss
on my neck. Snap. My fingers
through your hair. Pop. Shirt
tossed to the flames. Crack.
Your bare chest press hard
against mine. Snap. Goes
my bra  strap. Together we
make delicious s’mores.

—Nortina


Written for English #frapalywo. #Frapalywo is a German poetry challenge for Mrs. Paulchen’s poetry week. All this week, we are writing poems about our theme, noise. Today’s prompt is “at the campfire.”

Neighbors

My neighbor sets his trash pile ablaze with a blowtorch.

Because it’s Friday.

And he missed the garbage truck this morning.

“He’s mad!” my mother shouts. She yanks the curtains closed. Rushes to the kitchen to prepare dinner. “That’s how forest fires start.” She slices peppers and onions on the cutting board and rakes them into the sizzling pan on the stove.

I peek out the window one last time, watch the wind blow the debris in his yard east — toward our house.

—Nortina


flash-flash-2I think I might test my quick thinking (and quick typing) skills by trying this more often. It’s called Flash in a Flash, and the challenge is write a story in 120 seconds based on the one word prompt. Today’s prompt: blowtorch

Hot Head

From her small balcony, the witch watched the world go by. At the bus stop, Jake and Donnie played Taps with Donnie’s basketball, jumping in the air to catch the ball and pass it back before their feet touched the ground.

Jasmine sighed audibly. Yesterday had been her last day in a public school after she’d set Mrs. Robertson’s hair on fire. That woman was too sexy to be a teacher, anyway. She’d still have a scalp if she didn’t shove her tits in Jake’s face to “help him with a test question.” It was only a matter of time before she’d be arrested for sex with a student . . . Well, probably not now . . .

The Christmas decorations lit up in flames as Jasmine dug her nails into the banister. Her mother burst onto the balcony, flung a dusting of snow from her hands to extinguish the lights.

“Please don’t burn down the house, honey,” she said, her droopy eyes pleading. “Again.”

word count: 149

—Nortina


Mondays Finish the Story: a flash fiction challenge where we provide you with a new photo each week, and the first sentence of a story. Your challenge is to finish the story using 100-150 words, not including the sentence provided.

Click the froggy icon to read other stories and add your own.

2015-09-14-bw-beacham