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Fairweather Friends

Fairweather friend. I am not your fairweather friend. I am your foul weather friend. I am your friend for the dark days, the stormy days; the days when you roar and stamp and everyone else runs for cover. Not for me the days of sunshine and sweet talk. On those days I am sidelined, shunned. On those days my presence is too painful. I disturb the peace of your sushine days with my stormy memories. 

Paragraph Planet, Nov 9th 2017

Tweaked it slightly. 

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Taste

Disappointment rises, 

burning like bile 

in her throat,

curdling hope.

She chokes it down 

and turns 

and smiles.
#microprompt #taste

Water

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Water was everywhere. Running from over flowing gutters, streaming slick-like down brick walls and fences. The drains had given up long since, throwing back the water in fountains of protest. It pooled into puddles on saturated lawns. A gust of air sent a drum roll of droplets across the polytunnel. Be careful what you wish for, Granny used to say, you might just get it. Who had wished for rain for the garden, she wondered?


Submitted PP July ’17

Clown

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I begged you not to clown around.

You said it was impossible. “Clowning around is just who I am”, you said.

I laughed, and took the proffered balloons. How could I not?

three line tales

Fire and Water

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Wailing, roaring, burning and hissing, leaping shadows, reckless in his rage, he hurtled down.

Head Count

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https://unsplash.com/photos/7Z03R1wOdmI

Nothing more than a number.

Our individuality ignored, denied.

We are nothing to them.

#3linetales

Mug

It’s tattooed across my forehead. You can’t see it. It’s in some special ink but it glows whenever he is around like the trails left by bees and ants near a tasty snack or a particularly fertile wildflower meadow. Invisible to the human eye, it sends out a clear message to him. “Come on here, she’s ripe to swallow your honeyed crap today; drop your best line and wait.” I fall for it every time.


Paragraph Planet 16.4.17

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