There was once a girl who could talk to horses. This would have been a better gift if horses had anything interesting to say, but horses were not renowned for their conversational skills.
She did enjoy telling them who to kick.
This is for Three Line Tales, Week 186. Thanks to Sonya for running the challenge and Melanie Dretvic for providing the prompt photo!
They make their mark, beneath broken glass, while the alarms sound. One keeps watch for police with itchy trigger fingers while the others laugh.
Numbers have meaning and theirs mean this: that the world is over, that meaning is over, and they will make something new.
This is for Three Line Tales, Week 185. Thanks to Sonya for running the challenge and Leon Bublitz for providing the prompt photo!
The crash left him gasping burning air, his head aching, scrabbling to tear himself free of the chair. Above, silhouettes gathered, their faces hidden in shadows.
A flag waved overhead, but with the light behind it, he could not tell whether it was theirs or the enemy’s.
This is for Three Line Tales, Week 183. Thanks to Sonya for running the challenge and Marcus Wallis for providing the prompt photo!
She loved an elf with eyes like starlight, bright and unfading, and that was her curse, because for the elf each day was as the day before and those eyes were unchanging, while hers grew dim with the crawl of time.
And when she looked into those beloved eyes, she knew that she could never really understand what lay beneath them, no more than she could know what lay beyond the sky.
But she still she loved her elf, because she could not understand love either.
This is for Three Line Tales, Week 182. Thanks to Sonya for running the challenge and Rikki Austin for providing the prompt photo!
As a child she had nightmares of the man in the moon, a face twisting slowly in cold and distant rock, and she would wake screaming. Her parents bought her books, showed her documentaries, tried to tell her there was nothing there, just stone and dust and flags held up with wire, frozen in a windless sky, but they were never enough to stop the nightmares.
Only years later, when she stood on that dusty grey ground gazing at the Earth below, did the nightmares finally end.
This is for Three Line Tales Week 181. Thanks as always to Sonya for running the challenge and apologies for all the weeks I’ve missed! Photo taken by Neil Armstrong.
Trying to get back into the habit of doing these – and of actually posting stuff on here.
Buy one breathing mask, get one free for a child or family member! Get 20% off your next radiation treatment!
Offers not valid in cities under martial law, territories outside the Protective Zone, or available to any citizen considered “non-desirable.”
This is for Three Line Tales. Thanks to Sonya for running the challenge and Artem Bali for providing the prompt photo!
Verity hangs in the air, gravity tugging, orange curls flaring behind her, the deep water so far below and she remembers what her mother said: “Never jump unless you know you’ll land on your feet.”
But the rocks were placed so perfectly, one after the next, each just a little further, the waters between them a little darker, until at last she jumped and knew she wouldn’t make it.
The waters give way, tearing like silk, and she falls on, down into another sky, strange wind on her face, song in her ears, and a kaleidoscope of stars in her eyes.
This is for Three Line Tales. Thanks to Sonya for running the challenge and Nattu Adnan for providing the prompt photo!
