Chicken Liver

I’m running late this week but didn’t want to miss Friday Fictioneers. A 100 words of fiction based around the photo prompt provided. Follow the link and have a go.

luther-siler

Photo Copyright : Luther Siler

 

(Jimmy Liver Aged 9)

With the stone in his hand he looked at the window in Mrs Peabody’s front room.

The other boys circled round him shouting “throw it, throw it”

He could do it, he knew he could, he really could.

But he didn’t.

That’s when they started calling him ‘Chicken Liver’.

Over the years, ‘Chicken Liver’ never stole a kiss, never sneaked a beer or never ran a light. But ‘Chicken Liver’ knew something the others didn’t.

He knew that being brave was on the inside.

And that beneath every ‘Chicken’ costume there’s a Superhero hiding.

 

 

The Scent of Happiness

Time again for Friday Fictioneers. A 100 words of fiction based around the photo prompt provided. Follow the link and join in the fun.

roger-bultot-2

Original Photo : Roger Bultot

They said they were just stories, tales to lull the young to sleep when the black wind raised its rancid breath.

The elders told of a place where the water was so pure, just one drop could make the smallest seed bloom. Where the air was so fresh that people sang and laughed till they were intoxicated in its scent and streets of gold, so vivid in colour, that even the glowing sun seemed to pale in adulation.

Just stories they said.

Yet here.

Now.

At journey’s end.

I can smell the scent of happiness and I know they were not just stories.

Where Echoes Never Reach

Written for dVerse Poetics. A prompt inspired by Canadian poet David McFadden.To write about everyday life with an element of wonder, dotted with psychic bus stops that are sometimes unfathomable to ourselves.

As I struggle to find calm amidst the chaos this is where it took me –

mountain

Stop

Right there,

On the peak of confusion,

On the highest point,

The tallest crest,

Where peace,

It seems so far away,

Up here where echoes,

Never reach.

 

Wait,

Listen now,

To the ripples of misperception,

Where the air is thin,

Yet laced with hum,

It’s not that far from sanity,

It’s not that far at all,

Up here where angels,

Never sleep.

 

Original Photo: www.morguefile.com/creative/Koan