The Cattle Herders

Something enigmatic and yearning played about the edges of this moment when the marching of cattle plumed the dust of memories into the morning. Time to reflect and reminisce would come and bring with it the mercy of fulfillment that only weary muscles, dirtied hands, and reddened faces produced. For now, a determined and knowing…

Paper Cranes

We stand hand-in-hand leaning over the railing of the little bridge that crosses the river in the park behind our house while the city behind us becomes a kaleidoscope of light in the icy water below. We’ve been here a thousand times repeating the same ritual, repeating the same wish, repeating the same crushing weight…

Elise Lifting the Sun

“What if hearts were made of waffles?” Elise mused, her pigtails bobbing slightly as syrup from the bottle pooled on her plate and drizzled over the side from the unsteadiness of hands not quite as big as the questions she posed. “Well, then love would be as deliciously sweet as you are,” I replied, dipping…

Star Wars DaVinci

DV-2301 didn’t choose the Stormtrooper life; the Stormtrooper life chose him. Gifted with crafting form from a brushstroke of color, his childhood was spent drawing on the various canvases of life – illuminating flickers of hope in the wake of Imperial domination which had cast its shadow over the small corner of the galaxy he…

Divenire

Such an insignificant thing becoming a symphony of life in the hands of a child. In response to: Three Line Tales – Week Forty-Eight Featured Image: Zara Walker via Unsplash (CC0 Public Domain) Special thanks to  Sonya at Only 100 Words for organizing and curating these Three Line Tales every week. 

Family Fruit

“The best families have fruit, some sweet like berries and some sour like citrus, a few nuts for variety, the grains of flour holding us all together, a splash of rum to warm the spirit, but the best part is the proverbial cherry on top – that’s you my dear,” Granny smiled as she delicately…

All in a Day’s Eye

Annabelle doodled daisies wherever she went, sidewalks, notebooks, desks, doors, windows, walls, but her favorite was plucking their sunny faces, the petals adorning her lap and hair. It’s been years since her fascination with daisies shut like the day’s eye at night. I hadn’t realized how much I missed their innocence until I found the…