Above the land of the long white cloud, where the sky is blue, and it laughs aloud; where a sunshine path arcs east to west. Moving on and on, until the world has spun around and the moon and stars have found new ground. Then the earth’s eyes flash and wink and moonshine paths wind where lakes and rivers are silver strands. Then rippling fingers creep and dwell at the end of all that lies, beneath our ever-seeking eyes. They watch the clouds and the world fly by as steadily above we go until the curved horizon flattens out at the ends of the earth where the sun is out!
Showing posts with label 2024 Earth. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 2024 Earth. Show all posts
Tuesday, 18 June 2024
'Why Doesn't Anyone Listen to their Mom?' by Sally Simon
Mother never told me why she didn’t like my boyfriend. Why she’d say one thing to his face, and another to mine. And I never truly understood why I cared what she thought or said or did. Why it mattered that someone who didn’t know how to show love to her own husband, at least from what I could tell, told me I may want to think twice. Why should I care? Why not?
Later, after we’d been together for twenty years and I stayed fifteen longer than I should have, I knew why. But she died before I got an explanation for what he did, or didn’t do, that set my mother’s brain into overdrive, why she felt the need to warn me. And I’ll never stop asking myself why I didn’t listen.
'Coming of Age' by Sue Smith
When Luke is five his mother gives him a picture of a tree. Silver brown branches carry a myriad of leaves. Luke traces the outline with his finger. “If I looked out of the window would I see one?”
“Not from here, sweetheart.”
“Can I look out of the window?”
His mother shakes her head. “When you’re older. Not until then.”
There isn’t a window in Luke’s bedroom. The only one is in his father’s workshop, and it’s covered by a shutter that is always closed. “To keep out the sun,” his father says, but never explains why.
Every birthday follows the same pattern. His mother gives him a picture of something growing; a plant, some flowers, fruit. Every year he asks to look out of the window. Every year she says not until he’s older.
At night he dreams of hilltops covered in trees, and seas that stretch into the distance. When he wakes in the morning he feels a sting of disappointment that it was only a dream.
Then on his fifteenth birthday his mother and father come into his room together.
“We think you’re old enough,” his father says.
“To look out of the window?”
His mother nods.
“To see the world?”
His parents exchange looks.
They stand in front of the window. His father presses the button and the shutter creaks and complains but inches upwards.
The light is blinding. “Just a few minutes,” his father says. “No more or we’ll overheat.”
Luke screws his eyes into the nothingness All he can see is white. “Where’s earth?”
His mother points. “There. Near the sun.”
Luke follows the line of her finger and sees something black and lifeless.
When he looks back at his mother a solitary tear is sliding down her cheek.
'Why' by Jaime Bree
Why, oh, why did I? It's a question even I can't answer, yet, so many people want to know why. Why did I choose that path? Why did I make that decision? How did I not see that huge, gaping hole which I fell into, whilst shouting, 'Mother of God, why?'! Too little too late to even ask the sky, looming high, above you, laughing at the miniscule chance you're ever getting out, then opening the heavens so your pit becomes one of despair, not just your home, for the foreseeable future, where you will, indeed, be asking yourself why. At least until someone comes to rescue you, or the words, 'If only she'd asked why' are etched with craftsmanship on your gravestone.
'I am Whole and Ubiquitous' by Luanne Castle
I’m not the flip side of the sun, although that’s how I’m presented in cloth books for babies. I’m not merely the monarch of silver or shadows or home of owls and bats, mother of mothers or keeper of clocks or menstrual cycles, though I am all that. I am the bright place in the midnight sky. I am searched for and watched night by night. I am praised. I watch over you when you sleep. But remember, during the day I am there, too, hidden behind the swagger of the sun.
'The Rose at the Ends of the Earth' by Donna M Day
If you find it, it’s because you’ve been asleep for so long, you’re not going to wake again, at least in this world.
You will know it on sight, because the petals are the colour of the most treasured memory you’ve forgotten. Reflect that the smallest things are the most precious.
The number of thorns correlate with the number of times your heart broke. Count them and realise you’ve forgotten at least half.
The roots are as deep as the love of those who will miss you. You will never be able to dig deep enough to find their end.
Inhale its perfume and remember.
Monday, 17 June 2024
'Mum's Rules' by Val Harris
I’ve got a hunch mum might be having one of those breakdown things.
When we arrived home from school yesterday, like, she gave us both a certificate.
For being so great, right? I was wrong.
It was a set of Rules.
What?
Rule Two: do not roll your eyes, say ‘whatever’ or ‘like’.
—What is her problem? This is SO uncool. Like, Rules?
Rule Three: the toothpaste must be squeezed from the bottom. If not, no toothpaste will be available!
Rule Four: all crockery, and other detritus to be removed daily from rooms.
Rule Five: Any deviation will result in Rule One above.
Rule Six: please use more than a grunt or a single word to respond to a question i.e ‘How was school today?’ ‘It was good, thanks mum.’ NOT ‘err’ or ‘good’
—Doesn’t she know how tired we are?
Rule Seven: refer to Rule Five above.
Rule Eight: do not feed peas to the dog. It makes it smell!
—She means they make him fart! Don’t feed us peas!
Rule Nine: you will eat everything I make for you and put on your plate, or Rule One will apply.
Rule Ten: do not kick dirty washing under the bed to fester for days on end!
—I thought that was her job! I mean, she’s my mother!
Rule Eleven: Rule Ten is not my job!
Rule Twelve: Now re-read all rules with special attention to Rules One and Five.
Love Mum xx
I’m beginning to think I might break all the rules and go and live in the tent, or is that what…
'The Last Day on Earth' by Cheryl Markosky
She doesn't put chia seeds on her yoghurt or go to the gym. She doesn't do downward dog, the Sudoku or sort the recycling.
She ignores toothpaste splats on the sink, the Today programme and renewing her parking permit.
She doesn't wear her best dress. Slouches in her comfy, elasticated joggers. But she does wear clean underwear. (You never know).
She won't bother writing a thank you letter or meditate. She never got the hang of it anyhow.
No point in cleaning gunk out of the tiles with a toothpick. No point in wondering if God is dead.
She never asks what the third rail on a railway is for. How the last episode of Succession ends. Why Lime Scooters are allowed to clog up the pavement.
She doesn't hear trumpets sound. Or what will happen to Alice Carter, who's struggling with alcoholism, on The Archers.
She won't eat a special last meal, like a condemned prisoner on Death Row. Instead, she binges on a bag of Quavers and miniature Milky Ways. She refuses to share the last Skittle with her husband.
She can't be arsed to dust bust crumbs from the floor, deworm the dog and apologise to the neighbour for fly-tipping an old mattress in his garden.
She won't vote, write to her Member of Parliament, go on a protest march.
But she will listen to the rain, more rain falling. And put on her cagoule. Just in case.
'How To Go Crazy' by Julia Ruth Smith
It started the day I put sweet raspberry jam on cheese biscuits, a smile on a crooked face and my friend said gently, ‘Oh Judy, that’s not how it’s done.’
On account of her special age and a husband riding away with a saloon girl he’ll regret, I lent her my ear.
‘Cats - lots of them. One blind if possible. A short expensive cut from Alfredo’s that will look great for a week but will make people wonder. Run as fast and as far as you can especially on hot days. Especially at midday. Tell everyone that you absolutely love spending holiday days on your own –less washing-up, more Netflix. Repeat singularly unimportant details about family, friends, neighbours at intimate gatherings until people sidle away and get their coats. Post a blurry photo of said evening with the words, ‘What a blast!’ and a delighted-looking reindeer.
Never admit you’re just lonely.’
'People Also Ask' by Allison Renner
Why didn’t you ask for help?
Why would he do this to you?
Why didn’t you leave?
Why did you marry him?
Why didn’t I see the signs?
'Snow Day' by Donna M Day
Why did they call it global warming when it was going to get colder?
Why did it take so long for you to start saying climate change instead?
Why would you continue to plant crops that wouldn’t survive this frozen rain?
Why didn’t you do anything while you still could?
Why is everything dead?
Why should I just learn to live with it?
Why should I have to sort this out now?
Why aren’t you answering me?
'And Now It's Here' by Allison Renner
We line up two by two, ready to board the ship. There is no flood this time, only parched land beneath our feet. Crunch, crackle, as we step forward, two people closer to our turns.
We’re surprised no one is pushing or shoving, but no one has the energy. We didn’t realize we’ve been training for this for years. Taught to expect the worst.
Sunday, 16 June 2024
'Because' by Marie Little
From the moment I woke, Why? Was in the air. The dawn chorus questioned me from beyond the curtains: Why-why? Why-why? Jasper’s little needy face gazed up with wide, brown why-eyes. Even as I stirred a question mark of syrup into my porridge, the radio sang songs asking why you left, why did you have to go? Your favourite armchair let out a sad pufft: Oh, why? Very soon my mother would be on the phone with more questions than I had the stomach for: But WHY? He was such a lovely chap! I sat alone, spooning sweet, sweet porridge into my why-hole mouth, and wondered why I hadn’t done it sooner.
'Diamond Despot' by Scott MacLeod
You did not get to where Jimmy was by saying yes. Rules was rules.
Jimmy ran a tight ship at the stadium. He was a wiry 75, tanned to the color of a leather handbag by the Florida sun. He was patrolling the quarter-full park moving patrons who sat in seats not assigned to them.
A light rain had settled over the baseball field. As the downpour increased, one fan opened a discreet travel umbrella in Section 5.
“We got a Code U,” Jimmy shouted into the walkie-talkie to his beleaguered #2, Marge. She sheepishly upbraided the offender who pointed out fruitlessly he was in the last row and blocking no one.
Before Jimmy could relax, he noticed from the corner of his eye, a regular patron reaching into her fanny pack to withdraw a small ziploc bag. Outside food? From home? What was it, Cheezits? Flo knew better than that, thought Jimmy, pouncing into action.
“We got a snacker,” he roared at Marge through the handheld. She huffed her way down to Flo and with an apology requested she cease and desist her crunching.
Jimmy continued barking into the walkie as the weather worsened.
“Who is he talking to now?” Flo asked Marge.
“He’s on with God,” quipped a wag from across the aisle. “He’s complaining that the weather is against regulations.”
As if on cue a blinding flash married a deafening boom and Jimmy was gone.
All that was left was a worn pair of white leather Reeboks. On top of them was perched a singed silver toupee smoking slightly.
“Did you ever see anything like it?” asked Flo, shell shocked.
Marge had been trained well by the master. Before answering, she thumbed through her Game Day rule book. “I don’t see anything that prohibits it.”
'Why Bother' by Nick Fogg
“Why bother?”
“Why not?”
“Because I can’t be bothered, that’s why.”
“Why d’you say that? Why can’t you be bothered?”
“Because I don’t see why I should bother when no one else does.”
“And why don’t they?”
“How should I know why they don’t.”
“Maybe they’re wondering why you don’t.”
“Why I don’t is none of their business…”
“And you don’t care why they don’t.”
“…Why I should have to explain myself?”
“You can’t be bothered because you think no one else is, but if they’re not bothered because they think you’re not bothered, why oh why can’t you see that talking about things might help?”
“But why should I make the first move?”
“Why should anyone? Why don’t we just let everything fall apart? I mean, why bother?”
'Bhoomi Devi, the Great Earth Mother Has Had Enough' by Sumitra Singam
Bhoomi Devi found a pull in her jumper, and because she was out shopping, she didn’t attend to it immediately. This meant the pull caught on the gold claws of her diamond ring as she scratched her right breast – her skin not being what it once was. The snag unravelled further, and there was no fixing it. She considered snipping it off, perhaps patching it over to prevent further pulls, but sighed at the shopping yet to be unloaded, the washing machine yodelling its call to her, the dishes in the sink. Bhoomi Devi gave the pull a yank, and found it so satisfying that she kept pulling. She watched as animals, birds, fish, insects, fungi, trees, bushes, plants unravelled into an unwieldy skein at her feet. The jumper was almost at its hem when she felt resistance. Peering down, she saw a great knot of humanity playing tug-of-war with her. She considered a moment, but her skin, her lungs, her arteries all cried out with the abuse she’d endured. She gave one great tug, and in a moment it was all over.
Saturday, 15 June 2024
NFFD 2024 Prompt #22: Face of the Earth
Prompt #22: Face of the Earth
EARTH prompt E
Welcome to The Write-In! This year, we're celebrating the 2024 National Flash Fiction Day Anthology theme of The Classical Elements - Air, Earth, Water and Fire. Throughout National Flash Fiction Day, we'll be posting one time-related prompt on the hour every hour from 00:00 until midnight (BST), for a total of 25 prompts in all. You have until midnight on Sunday (BST) to submit your responses for possible publication here at the Write-In. We'll start posting responses on Sunday, 16 June 2024....
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Write a flash from the point of view of the earth (or another planet or moon).
*
If you’re submitting
this to us, make sure to note that this is a response to Prompt 22:
Face of the Earth.
You can submit responses until 23:59 BST on Sunday,
16 June 2024 for a chance to be published here at The Write-In.
You can claim the badge for this prompt by visiting the badgifier here (hosted by the NFFD website).
Earthrise photo from Apollo 8 Mission, courtesy of NASA, via Wikimedia Commons
NFFD 2024 Prompt #17: Like Nothing on Earth
Prompt #17: Like Nothing on Earth
EARTH prompt D
Welcome to The Write-In! This year, we're celebrating the 2024 National Flash Fiction Day Anthology theme of The Classical Elements - Air, Earth, Water and Fire. Throughout National Flash Fiction Day, we'll be posting one time-related prompt on the hour every hour from 00:00 until midnight (BST), for a total of 25 prompts in all. You have until midnight on Sunday (BST) to submit your responses for possible publication here at the Write-In. We'll start posting responses on Sunday, 16 June 2024....
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Write a flash that takes us to a different place from our earth...this could be a different planet, a different reality, or a defamiliarised here and now. Feel free to lean in to scifi, fantasy, speculative fiction, absurdism, or anywhere unusual you care to explore....
*
If you’re submitting
this to us, make sure to note that this is a response to Prompt 17:
Like Nothing on Earth.
You can submit responses until 23:59 BST on Sunday,
16 June 2024 for a chance to be published here at The Write-In.
You can claim the badge for this prompt by visiting the badgifier here (hosted by the NFFD website).
Photo of Oregon's Painted Hills by Dan Meyers on Unsplash
NFFD 2024 Prompt #12: Ground Rules
Prompt #12: Ground Rules
EARTH prompt C
Welcome to The Write-In! This year, we're celebrating the 2024 National Flash Fiction Day Anthology theme of The Classical Elements - Air, Earth, Water and Fire. Throughout National Flash Fiction Day, we'll be posting one time-related prompt on the hour every hour from 00:00 until midnight (BST), for a total of 25 prompts in all. You have until midnight on Sunday (BST) to submit your responses for possible publication here at the Write-In. We'll start posting responses on Sunday, 16 June 2024....
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Write a flash which involves a set of rules.
*
If you’re submitting
this to us, make sure to note that this is a response to Prompt 12:
Ground Rules.
You can submit responses until 23:59 BST on Sunday,
16 June 2024 for a chance to be published here at The Write-In.
You can claim the badge for this prompt by visiting the badgifier here (hosted by the NFFD website).
Photo by rorozoa on freepik
NFFD 2024 Prompt #7: Ends of the Earth
Prompt #7: Ends of the Earth
EARTH prompt B
Welcome to The Write-In! This year, we're celebrating the 2024 National Flash Fiction Day Anthology theme of The Classical Elements - Air, Earth, Water and Fire. Throughout National Flash Fiction Day, we'll be posting one time-related prompt on the hour every hour from 00:00 until midnight (BST), for a total of 25 prompts in all. You have until midnight on Sunday (BST) to submit your responses for possible publication here at the Write-In. We'll start posting responses on Sunday, 16 June 2024....
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Write a flash in which someone (or something) encounters the end (or ends) of the earth. This could be the the end of an overland path, the end of our planet as we know it, the heat-death of the universe, or a metaphorical take on the theme. Feel free to be creative in your interpretation!
*
If you’re submitting
this to us, make sure to note that this is a response to Prompt 7:
Ends of the Earth.
You can submit responses until 23:59 BST on Sunday,
16 June 2024 for a chance to be published here at The Write-In.
You can claim the badge for this prompt by visiting the badgifier here (hosted by the NFFD website).
Photo by wirestock via freepik
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