libra and the leaves

(for day #26 of Flash Fiction Month; read it on my deviantART!)

An adventure of great proportions, second to none in the entire kingdom! A tale about the coming-of-age of a young boy who has to face tremendous hardships and surpass all kinds of obstacles to reach his ultimate dream - recognition as the best swordsman who ever lived! And, maybe in the end, the graceful hand of Her Highness the princess…

Except he was stuck on a trap and none of his skills were helping.

Good grief, Master! I didn’t cross the famed Bridge of Bones and unleashed my full force on the purple army only to see my end arrive at the hands of a pit!

Hush, good warrior! We’ll come out victorious of this incident just like we got over all the others!

“James, I have to say I commend your tenacity. You do know you have to get three sixes in a row to get out, don’t you?”, said Elric, repositioning his glasses while surrounded by sheets filled with calculations.

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not quite the dream

(for day #25 of Flash Fiction Month; read it on my deviantART!)

I count the days left for us to be together, my dear, and I wonder if I’ll see your skin just as I imagine or if it’ll be cracked and filled with scars that are far from beautiful, but lovely nevertheless (I want to believe that). But don’t mind me, for when that one day comes the only thing that will matter is the bubble that shield us both from the outside world, shields me from your impression of the outside world… and let’s just say you are pretty good at impersonating a cold, bitter, selfish woman.

wires

(for day #24 of Flash Fiction Month; read it on my deviantART!)

He named it Copper because of her, for the few strands of her curly hair that attained that color when exposed to the sun. In fact, he was incapable of visualizing her without envisioning a warm Summer afternoon as well, without a single breeze to tone down the heat. Though that was probably the biggest difference between this plant and his friend: that while the first withers under direct, strong, nearly suffocating lights, the second revels in them, fire fed and flame fueled. She could only be happy chasing Summers throughout the globe and, despite all previous concerns, he found himself perfectly content with that choice, so long as he could keep taking care of her plants and get a glimpse of the place she inhabited before deciding the world was her home.

snapshots

(for day #23 of Flash Fiction Month; read it on my deviantART!)

I swiftly get rid of the past as I update one of my frames, the one I change the most. This time, the photo features my daughter in a short auburn hairstyle holding hands with a guy almost twice her size, all bulky muscles and broad shoulders. Her choices baffle me to this day, as I cannot distinguish a pattern amongst the many men I’ve seen her with. Taller, shorter, leaner, heavier, sportsmen, geeks, she has dated at least one of each and everytime she insists on giving me a photo which she calls as a ‘symbol of their undying love’. Photos that force me to constantly keep on my toes as she likes to make surprise visits at the office and will sulk for weeks to no end if she catches sight of her latest ex-boyfriend on the frame.

In this case, a thousand pictures are worth three words, the kind teenagers and grown women (who then feel like teenagers) wish to say at least once. Suffice to say, when those three words are repeated on an almost monthly basis, and to different people, they appear as if taken from a textbook for alarm signs.

On the other end, there are other frames above my desk, too, namely one that will never be replaced. It features a young child with long dark hair, mischievous eyes and hands above her head; she’s piggybacking a man who’d never guess children grow so fast and that he’d spend half of one of his afternoons sweeping the hearts she broke along the way.

illusionisms

(for day #22 of Flash Fiction Month; read it on my deviantART!)

Pray tell, a gust has washed away all traces of a coherent narration. I stand tall and straight, unabashed and unaffected, letting them judge me with their heavy tomes and scientific, analytical demonstrations. I am one with the visions that grace my mind; I need not to feel the wind to know trees are shaking.