No Coincidence

We met in that careless synchronicity wizards know.  Car seat between us, his handsome young face alit.  Trading secrets that silver-haired grannies like me hold, but in 30,000 rides, he’d seen the way of Tao. 

I told him I lived on a lake. 

His dream was to leave the windy city of his birth and open his heart to the waves, the birds, the peace.  

He said, “I could live with someone older, do the chores, relax.”  

I thought what he was flirting with was the incantation, as wizards do.  

“I meditate,” he confided, so we both know there are moments caught between heartbeats where we meet.  Strangers no longer, we waved our wands to solve the planet’s woes, just so.  

By Departures, we tarried a spell until airport security prevailed.  Another wave, he drove away.  I glanced, curious, into the mirrored door.

Flash fiction in 144 words written for the dverse poets prompt:  prosery between heartbeats using the line “there are moments caught between heart-beats.”

Featured image using Lunapic‘s Van Gogh filter on a recent photo.

Tuning Into The Song

Toby, my new love, lies besides me.  Both on guerneys in a white, light-filled room.

His eyes are closed.  A nurse wheels in Ben, my first love, and I greet him with delight and concern.  He’s also injured.  I send a circle of love to surround him, become aware simultaneously of Toby, awake, scowling darkly, simmering in unreasonable jealousy.  And he is aiming it all at unconscious Ben. 

I gently remove the finger of smoke, seal Ben’s protection, follow the trail back to Toby.  His heart is loud with hate and fear.  I am unmoved, yet moving with calm deliberation into the blackened heart. 

He is overtaken and still I unwind the hate like music out of tune, and I the tuning fork.  Deep inside, he longs to hear the note to return, return to the song he was meant to sing. 

Dissipating. 

The electricity of his will thrumming now into a new vibration.  I lean back and close my eyes, smiling, at ease.  Something new has burst from me, my song amplified, my powers restored.

***

Written for the Saturday Stream of Consciousness prompt: Loud and this impulse to write flash fiction this morning.  SoCS rule number 1: Your post must be stream of consciousness writing, meaning no editing (typos can be fixed), and minimal planning on what you’re going to write. (Otherwise, I would go back and fix some things!)

Or Worse

At his urging, we had a festive
wedding, even though the child
quickened in me long before
we ascended the stairs to the
rose-strewn chapel, stood before
the solemn oath-taker, and
turned to face the cheering crowd
with my pasted-on smile, draped
in liar’s white and his arm, bruising
with his gloating.

Inspired to use these prompts: Stairs, FestiveUrge and Wedding in a 55-word flash fiction in one sentence.  (Why? I never ask inspiration.  Do, Not Ask Why.)

Sharin’ The Wealth

So I’m lookin’ through the dawn, tryna see who’s out there. Rubbin’ my eyes, realize, a cow is.  Screaming across the arroyo, I try’n wake Joe.  He’s flat out splankered from Old Gobble, the cheapskate goodfurnuttin, leastwise til sunset or so.  So it’s jus’ me anna cow and she’s a friendly sort.  Fuggetabout Joe, the sot, Imma make a new friend.  Ain’t got a lot of ’em.  Never had the chance til now, tellya true.  But luck just comes in waves.  First the gold, now a browneyed fourlegged critter.  Dunno if you’ve ever befriended a cow.  It’s a del’cate thing.  First, gotta stop screamin’. Cows don’t much like that.  They can read your heart, so you gotta find inner kindness, mirror theirs.  This’n mebbe knew there was water here once, in this dried-up bed. Knew I had some to share.  Came close.

(Written for a dverse poetry prompt to write flash fiction of 144 words or less including “A cow is screaming across the arroyo”–a line from Jim Harrison’s poem Cow.  Which I’ve not read.)