The Picnic

after more than a decade of virtual hugs and late night chats, the four girlfriends have finally met again for a summer picnic.

two married, one engaged, one still single, they’ve bonded because of one common denominator: a guy they played love with. a nerd from college who’s known for his ragged blue jeans and an old-day-smelling shirt.

under the hot sun with the smoky smell of barbecue, there was no sound but their joyful giggles. until a dashing, familiar man appeared. until they heard nothing but bangs after bangs. then the green lawn turned red with fresh blood.

silence.

Word count: 100
©2017 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo credit: Yarnspinner

For Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers (FFfAW) May 09, 2017. 🙂

BLEEDING LINES

My debut book Between My Bleeding Lines is now available on Amazon and Createspace! Please see the following links:

Thank you! ❤

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Abandonment: An Aubade

Smiling sun always arrive
with the hope of a better life.

Maybe we are the only exception.
The poor ones inside a rich legion.

Dark nights are definitely ours,
but mornings restart our hearts’ wars.

Once the sun rays start to shine,
they remind me you are not mine.

Photo credit: Unsplash

In response to OctPoWriMo 2016 by Morgan Dragonwillow‘s Day 26.

Aubade (dawn song) is a love poem, specifically the parting of lovers at dawn. Conflict between love and responsibility is at the center of this poetic genre.

This genre dates back to 12th century France and is the counterpart to a secular Evensong, Serena or Serenade.. The name Alba comes from the medieval watchman’s cry “alba” announcing the passing of the night and return of day. The early Occitan troubadour poems ended each stanza with the word.

The Alba or Aubade is:

  • a love poem, most often mourning the parting of lovers while extolling the coming day.
  • constructed at the discretion of the poet, length, stanzaic form, meter and or rhyme. although often a smattering of rhyme is present without any particular rhyme scheme.
  • dramatic since it is often dialogue between the parting lovers or coming from a cuckold husband or a watchman’ warning. Sometimes dialogue is silent, expressed in images.

Dangerous: A Deten

You have
dangerous eyes.
They trapped me willingly,
like a lunatic lost in love
and lies.

Close it
so I’ll see light.
I don’t need rescuing,
my mind can regain its own wit
and fight.

Alone
I will be fine.
Like a new butterfly flying
I’ll flourish, exist on my own,
all mine.

Photo credit: Unsplash

In response to OctPoWriMo 2016 by Morgan Dragonwillow‘s Day 22.

The Deten has a unique rhyme scheme. It was created by Johnn Schroeder and can be found at Poetry Base.

The Deten is:

  • a 15 line poem made up of 3 cinquains.
  • meter at the discretion of the poet. Iambic pentameter is suggested, but tetrameter or sprung rhythm would also work. It might interesting to use the Crapsey Cinquain syllabic frame 2-4-6-8-2.
  • rhymed abcab decde fgcfg.

Tasty: A Tango

Words slipping through your sweet, lying tongue,
smell as fragrant as wildflowers in bloom.
But when they went inside my heart and my mind,
your tasty letters are cursed with unending gloom.

Photo credit: Unsplash

In response to OctPoWriMo 2016 by Morgan Dragonwillow‘s Day 6.


The Tango is an invented stanzaic form introduced by Chiquita LoJuana Gonzolas Sills.

The Tango is:

  • stanzaic, written in any number of quatrains.
  • syllabic, 9-10-11-12 syllables per line.
  • rhymed, xaxa xbxb etc. x being unrhymed.

Purple: A Pensee*

Purple-
colored skin throbs.
Even after tear’s flow stopped.
Each strong blow leaves brutal, deep marks.
Skin to soul, she’s left scarred and scathed.

Photo credit: Unsplash

In response to OctPoWriMo 2016 by Morgan Dragonwillow‘s Day 4.

*Pensee found in the Caulkins Handbook stresses exact syllable count and strong end words. This invented verse form was first introduced by American poet and educator, Alice Spokes. It can be found on line at Instant Poetry Forms for Kids

The Pensee is:

  • a pentastich, a poem in 5 lines.
  • syllabic, 2-4-7-8-8 syllables per line.
  • unrhymed.
  • titled.

Mirror: Fiction with Vignettes

I’m an audience for decades now but no one knows I’m watching.

1945

“Ssshhh,” I whispered to myself.

Hiding behind my wooden closet across my huge mirror, trembling with fear, I am finding it hard to breathe.

“Please, Lord, don’t let them see me, please, oh please.”

2015

“You’re such a beautiful lass,” I giddily tell myself as I stand in front of my antique mirror.

I’m finding it hard to apply my eyeliner. Argh! Why can’t I control my nerves?

Yep. I’m too excited, for him to see me.

1945

Blood. My little toe is surely bleeding now.

I tried to go out quick and get a bandage.

I am almost near across the mirror, when I heard loud footsteps.

They’re coming.

2015

One hour. That’s how long, or maybe how short, our first date was.

I can’t remember the details but it was great! Because I invited him here at my room!

As I sneak a look at his handsome face reflected in my mirror, I know my decision is right.

1945

I tried to be as small as I can be. I tried to stop any noise from me, even my own ragged breathing.

But I can hear the soldiers’ voices, in foreign language, go louder as they come near me.

I want to take a peek at the mirror again. But I stopped myself.

2015

I know it’s too late now to be such a conservative lady.

It’s already 2015, so it’s no big deal. This is love at first sight, indeed.

How did I know? Well, he just wrote ‘I love you’ in my mirror!

1945

I almost jumped when someone grabbed me.

Now he’s dragging me towards my bed as his two comrades cheer him up.

I screamed, to no avail.

I looked at myself in the mirror, as he lay me down on my own bed.

I am seeing myself, for the last time.

2015

I know I almost planned for this but I am still somehow surprised when he started kissing me.

His lips are now invading mine, I like it at first but… I’m feeling a bit uneasy now.

I tried to push him away as he tries to lay me down.

“Wait, wait, wait,” I said as I try to stop him.

“No!” he shouted.

My eyes went wide, as through my mirror I see him pull out a pocket knife.

11.25.2015
©2016 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer

Photo credit: Tumblr
Originally written for Blogging University’s WRITING 101 Day 18 Assignment.
Compose a series of anecdotes
Today, tell a story through a series of anecdotes (also called vignettes): short, episodic scenes or moments that together read as variations on the same theme. They can each be as short or long as you see fit — they don’t have to be the same length — but they need a common feature to tie them together, whether it’s a repeated phrase, a similar setting, a literary device, or the appearance of the same person.

Dual Hands

The same rugged, masculine yet gentle hands
which tickled each nerves and gave me sensual goosebumps,
have weaved yarnful of lies that ended my life.

©2016 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.
Photo credit: Philip Estrada

In response to Sonya of Only 100 Words‘ Three Line Tales Week Thirty-Three.

If you want to join, here are the simple rules:

  • Write three lines inspired by the photo prompt.
  • Link back to this post.
  • Tag your post with 3LineTales (so we can find you in the Reader).
  • Read and comment on other TLT participants’ lines.
  • Have fun.

Pick One

Carefully choosing among the sharp, the hard, the brute and the bad,
my shaking hand grazes the powerful tools’ varied edges
as it discerns what it’ll use to you and your mistress.

©2016 Rosemawrites@A Reading Writer. All Rights Reserved.

Photo credit: Ashim D’Silva


In response to Sonya of Only 100 Words‘ Three Line Tales Week Twenty-Eight.

If you want to join, here are the simple rules:

  • Write three lines inspired by the photo prompt.
  • Link back to this post.
  • Tag your post with 3LineTales (so we can find you in the Reader).
  • Read and comment on other TLT participants’ lines.
  • Have fun.