Love Haiku #9
Thunderclap wakes me
in bed, void of your body
heat. I remember
a time when your eyes
lit my room as lightning, your
love gushed like driving
rain. In the distant
shower outside my window,
I think of you. How
you smashed into me
like hurricane winds and kissed
me with tempest force.
You are my storm, Dear
Lust. When darkness descends, I
burn for your fire.
When we were kids, they told us never to go swimming during a thunderstorm. The lightning could strike the water, fry our little bodies and stop our hearts. But what were the odds, right?
Russell is drunk again. He walked into our one-bedroom apartment at eight this morning, trailing a 40 behind him, wet hair clinging to his forehead. “The water’s swarm,” he slurred.
I didn’t mention that I had to walk the kids seven blocks to school because he took the car, that my checkbook was missing, that Breen’s cleats for football would cost $160—$160 we don’t have; $160 Russell manages to find for beer and online poker.
“I’ll take a dive,” I told him.
The water is freezing. Silly me for believing a man whose blood boils in alcohol. The waves sweep around my feet as I squat and splash my face, the salt from the ocean burning my eyes. Better to be blind than to watch Russell mold our son into his likeness.
Rumbles of thunder approach from behind. Better to be struck by lightning.
word count: 175
Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers is a weekly challenge where you write a story in 75-175 using the provided photo prompt as inspiration. Click the froggy icon to read other stories inspired by the photo and add your own.
Zeus was not having a good day and he made sure everyone knew it.
Hera was in another one of her moods. That time of the month. It came quicker now—from every four weeks, down to three, two. Now, only a week separated her . . . moods, which lasted longer than a few days. All she did was lie on the clouds, stuffing her face with pomegranate seeds and cursing Zeus whenever he commanded her to perform her wifely duties.
And she wonders why he has so many demigod brats running around Earth, turning Krakens into stone with severed serpentine heads, and slaying beasts with their bare hands. Mortal women bowed down to his Olympian scepter. They worshipped the mighty pendulum that dangled between his godly, muscular thighs. They were proud to bear his children.
After his reign of thunder and lightning, to which Hera didn’t budge, he descended to Earth for a mortal woman he could fill with his infinite glory.
word count: 150
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.