Merril is our host at dVerse Poets Pub for prosery.
Prosery is a piece of short prose that includes a line from a poem. I will give you the line, and then you incorporate it into your prose piece. It can be either flash fiction, nonfiction, or creative nonfiction, but it must be prose, not a poem. And it must be no longer than 144 words, not including the title. It does not have to be exactly 144 words. Our prompt is:
“there is nothing behind the wall except a space where the wind whistles” from “Drawings By Children” by Lisel Mueller
She could still feel the ugly red pressure of the day it happened. The dull grey and orange of the sky, the torrent of air rupturing the early morning stillness like a sonic boom. The day the light died in his steel-grey eyes while he spoke the words that shattered her heart, her world, her soul.
It should have killed her. Pain like that should kill you instantly, like an arrow to the heart. But, alas, it did not. She pulled together the fragments of her shattered self and put them back together. Differently this time. Never again know the pain of love. She built a wall around her heart and to all who knew her, she seemed whole. But there is nothing behind the wall except a space where the wind whistles in hollow agony.
Kim from Writing in North Norfolk is hosting at dVerse today and would like for us to write a bit of prosery including the following line from D.H. Lawrence’s poem “Hummingbird:”
‘We look at him through the wrong end of the long telescope of Time’.
For an added challenge, we are limited to 144 words.
I take his gnarled hand in mine. Papery skin seeming somehow fragile. Hands that gently bottle fed a newborn kitten also struck fearsome taekwondo punches. Big hands, strong hands that made a little girl feel safe, that wiped away the tears and lifted the child back onto the bicycle. Hands that were meant for delicate technical work, not to be the home for needles and tubes. Brothers are weeping. We look at him through the wrong end of the long telescope of Time. Somehow the giant of a man appears reduced by the ravages of years. In my mind, I turn the telescope and see the young man diving from high cliffs into the surf far below. His hand caresses my cheek, wiping away one last tear. He whispers “don’t weep for me my angel” as I watch the light fade from his eyes.
Kim from Writing in North Norfolk, hosts Prosery, when we are asked to write a very short piece of prose that tells a story, with a beginning, a middle and an end, in any genre of our choice.
As it’s flash fiction, we have a limit of 144 words; an additional challenge is to hit 144 exactly. The special thing about Prosery is that we give you a complete line from a poem, which must be included somewhere in your story, within the 144-word limit. Our line is“There are moments caught between heartbeats“
There are moments, and then there are moments. There are moments that make you and moments that break you. For a Warrioress of the Way, there are moments caught between heartbeats, like the space between raindrops filled with nothing and everything at the same time. Chalize stood in that moment, silent rain falling yet dry, heart beating but not yet. Her senses beheld her world in crystalline perfection, the glint of the sun on moonstone, the cool hardness of steel beneath her hand, the crunching leaves of steps approaching. Choices to be made, to fight or flee, to live or die. For a Warrioress of the Way life was difficult. Out here away from the temple though it seemed so very precious. In that moment, Chalize made her choice to live a moment more, fight another day. In that moment she turned and ran.
“As another year approaches, it is sometimes difficult to maintain hope for what lies ahead, though hope defined is really something of our own making. We can always have hope. We can always have dreams. This world we live in has progressed in countless ways but has also taken regressive steps, in my opinion regarding humanity. Often my poetry tends to dip into the dark. For me, the words flow from what I see as an obvious truth, a direction that our society has taken, without hesitation or contemplation. Today I am asking you to do the same. Dream with me. For this prompt, create and describe a “new world” as you envision it. You can write from a general perspective or focus on one particular scene in your new world. Try, if you can to avoid a specific political view. This ol’ world has been a bit lost for awhile now. The sky’s the limit. Maybe your world doesn’t have a sky. Maybe we live in the sky. Keep it simple or take us to Utopia.”
Today’s prompt: Write a piece of prose around the question: “I never mattered much to you, did I?”
All That Matters
Chinese dragons fill the air, flying high across the park. A child runs by laughing holding tight to the string of her kite. I laugh and tug at your arm to show you the joy in her smile. You hurry me along saying “it doesn’t matter.”
Tiny buds begin to form on the lilac bush growing tall and feral, the promise of Spring, of warmth and beauty. I call you to come and see, but you shrug and go back to your paper “it just doesn’t matter to me.”
All the beauty I tried to show you, all the love I tried to give you. Through a gossamer haze I see you now in your fine black suit, single red rose dropping into the grave. A tear slips down your weathered face. Why? I was never able to make you see, never able to love you quite the right way. Nothing ever mattered much to you. I never mattered much to you. Did I? I think it sad that we’ll never know, as I slip silently into the light.
A piece of Prosery for Kim at dVerse Poets. Kim asks us “to write a very short piece of prose that tells a story, with a beginning, a middle and an end, in any genre of your choice.
As it’s flash fiction, we have a limit of 144 words; an additional challenge is to hit 144 exactly. The special thing about Prosery is that we give you a complete line from a poem, which must be included somewhere in your story, within the 144-word limit.”Continue reading “Light of the Pyres – a Prosery Tale”→