Lyrical Fiction Friday Reveal: “6:00 In The Morning” #lyricalfictionfriday

At 6:00 in the morning . . . this is the only way I want to wake up!

It’s Lyrical Fiction Friday time again. Head on over to Marquessa’s page to participate!

Lyrical Fiction Friday Reveal: “Circles With Your Tongue” #lyricalfictionfriday — The Next Chapter

Let’s talk circles with the pen and create another fun story for this week’s Lyrical Fiction Friday prompt! Be sure to participate directly on Marquessa’s page!

Today’s lyric prompt is:

“I know you lie…’cause your lips are movin’…talking circles with your tongue…”

For the rules, click on the lyric above. Be inspired and write! Disclaimer: I have no copyrights to the song and/or video and/or hyperlinks to songs and/or videos and/or gifs above. No copyright infringement intended. All Rights Reserved ©2018 […]

via Lyrical Fiction Friday Reveal: “Circles With Your Tongue” #lyricalfictionfriday — The Next Chapter

#BlaPoWriMo: I met this girl…

I met this girl–skin like polished mahogany, hair like lamb’s wool, lips like plush cushions–she ruined my philosophy of the mad black woman. It is not a frown on her face but a grimace as she holds the weight of every black man who has sat on her back like an ottoman pulled from under the table for guests to rest their feet, have a drink and discuss the politics of the world too sophisticated for a female’s mind, who should know her place in silence when company is around. My heart skips a beat when she finally stands–shows me how tall she really is.


Inspired by Marquessa’s Lyrical Fiction Friday prompt: …I met this girl…she ruined my philosophy…my heart skips a beat when she comes around…

Written for Black Poetry Writing Month (BlaPoWriMo). This year, we’re taking a journey through the different eras of black poetry and history. This week’s era is: Harlem Renaissance

Lyrical Fiction Friday: “Ruin My Philosophy” #lyricalfictionfriday

Good Friday Morning! You know what Friday means…

It’s time for Lyrical Fiction Friday! And today’s prompt is a good one from one of my favorite R&B singers! This song makes you want to snuggle up with someone special…

or write about it! 😉

So head over to Marquessa’s page to participate!

#LyricalFictionFriday: On the Other Side

Kyle picks up the board and splits it over his knee, but it won’t erase from their minds the message that was just spelled out.

“Do you hear that?” Lisa asks.

“Shut up!” Kyle snaps. Even he doesn’t recognize the squeal that exits from his mouth.

“There’s no point.” Ryan clears his throat. Given that it might have been his dead brother calling for help from the other side, he seems the calmest of the three of them. “The door’s already been opened.”

“I’m not staying to see what walks through.” Kyle turns to leave but stops in the foyer in front of the closet. It’s cold outside, still winter, there’s wind, freezing rain in the forecast, he would need his coat.

“What is it?” Lisa asks, trepidation in her voice.

Kyle puts his ear to the closet door.

“You hear it too.” Ryan says it more as a statement than a question.

Kyle swallows hard. He won’t confirm or deny the echo of his own breathing on the other side.


I had to take a brief hiatus while I got some things back in order. But I’m back, catching up on some prompts that I missed while away. Here’s my contribution to a previous Lyrical Fiction Friday prompt: I’m trying to erase you from my mind…you’re my religion and my belief…

Lyrical Fiction Friday Reveal: “No Bite” #lyricalfictionfriday

Before Beyoncé’s “Single Ladies”, there was The Pussycat Dolls’ “I Don’t Need a Man”…

Are you ready to put this single woman’s anthem to work? Then head on over to Marquessa’s page for another installment of Lyrical Fiction Friday!

#LyricalFictionFriday: Ruff Nite

Another commerical. I receive spam emails from Match at least every week. How they got my information remains a mystery…

Like how Michael already knew where I lived before our first date, could describe my sandy colored Toyota Camry with his eyes closed, along with what was inside, even down to the pile of dirty clothes in the back seat that I still haven’t taken to the laundromat.

As I watch these “couples” force smiled for the cameras, sit together— knees barely touching—holding hands—fingers closed—and proclaim how these websites brought them together with their best friend, their soulmate, the love of their lives, I wonder how many tries did it take?

How many I-still-live-at-home-with-my-mom’s did they have to go through? How many middle-aged I’m-still-finding-myself’s? How many unemployed “entrepreneurs”? How many do-you-think-you-can-cover-the-check’s? How many my-girlfriend-wants-to-spice-up-our-relationship’s?

Or is that only on the free dating websites?

I press the power button on the remote. There’s nothing on TV at this hour anyway.

Benny, my chocolate lab, who’s been laying at my feet, jumps up when I move. He wags his tail, licks my palm, bows his head for me to pet him. He did the same at the door when I returned home from another demoralizing evening of being groped in a movie theater by a man who couldn’t repeat my name two minutes after introductions but remembered that my profile said I was a Pisces, and according to some magazine he read, Pisces are freaks in bed.

He was sadly disappointed when I showed him how fast my rear tires could spin as I sped out of that parking lot, leaving him in the fumes of my 20-year-old car’s exhaust.

“Oh Benny,” I say with a sigh, scratching behind his ear. “Your cocoa fur against mine is all I need to help revive me after the night I’ve had.” I slap him on his hind leg, and he scurries off ahead of me toward the bedroom.

Sad as it may sound, Benny is the only male I’ll be sleeping with tonight.


It’s been a ruff two weeks, but hopefully in the next couple of days, it’ll be well worth it. (Yes, I’m intentionally being cryptic here. 😉 )

I had to take a brief hiatus while I got some things back in order. But I’m back, catching up on some prompts that I missed while away. Here’s my contribution to a previous Lyrical Fiction Friday prompt: Your cocoa skin against mine…Is all I need to help revive me… 

Lyrical Fiction Friday Reveal: “Erase You” #lyricalfictionfriday

Growing up, I was so in love with Ricky Martin (I still sing “Livin’ la Vida Loca”). So this week’s Lyrical Fiction Friday prompt feels a bit nostalgic to me. 🙂 How about you? Be sure to head over to Marquessa’s page to participate!

Lyrical Fiction Friday Reveal: “Cocoa Skin Against Mine” #lyricalfictionfriday

Whew! Is it hot in here, or is it just me?

This week’s Lyrical Fiction Friday prompt will leave you craving for something; a pair of chocolate legs wrapped around you or a smooth, sweet chocolate bar or a mug of hot cocoa…

Me, I’m craving the latter, as I’m snowed in for another day. Maybe today I’ll be a little more productive than yesterday and write a seductive story to go along with this prompt. 😉

Be sure to head over to Marquessa’s page to join in!

#LyricalFictionFriday: Distance

“My love,” she says as she tilts the bottle under the rush of hot water raining down from the faucet. She looks over her shoulder. He’s standing by the door. It’s open behind him. Cracked. A sliver of light from the hall pours in. He reaches back for the knob…

Oh, how she wishes he would push it closed, take those three giant steps around the kitchen island with his long lanky legs to come behind her, as he used to, long days after work. Their bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces, how she wishes he would wrap his arms around her waist, whisper in her ear, “My love,” the way he did thirteen months ago, before—

A sudden cry from the monitor by the sink grabs her attention, for only a second, and in that second, the distance between them grows. The door is open wider now, his body fits between the crack, blocking the light, one foot already in the hall.

“Will you get that?”

But that isn’t a phone she can answer and tell its caller to ring back later, or a TV she can put on mute. That is a baby. Their baby. And has he even touched it? Fed it? Changed a single diaper? Does he know that it has his eyes? Does he realize that she still doesn’t feel like a mother, looks at it like it’s a thing, a thing that won’t be quiet, that won’t stop?

She wants to ask him…

If he comes back.

She’s left in darkness. The door closed, she hears the echo of his footsteps down the hall, but they don’t grow faint, they get louder, and the speaker from the baby monitor triples in size, the cries rising, flooding her ears, pushing her down to the floor, curled in the fetal position, hysterical, waiting for some kind of a miracle.


Written for #LyricalFictionFriday, a challenge that uses song lyrics as prompts. Today’s prompt is: …He’s only happy hysterical … I’m waiting for some kind of miracle…