If only we could…

Leaping to Freedom
If only we could….

Choose freedom as a gift
Make it a pledge
Our choices might shift 
To a life on the edge

If only we could….

Have the gift of foresight
We should if we could 
Take that leap into the light

If only we could…

Be brave and take that chance
We could embrace each day
Through life we could dance. 

If only we could…

But of course we can...
We can do anything we choose
We have nothing to lose

Except our fear. 

Putting My Feet in the DirtOctober’s Writing prompts.This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’.

30. The moments before we touch

“The honesty’s too much……”  Well that triggered a song in my mind.  Still humming as I search for something intriguing or romantic to write……… about those moments before we touch.

 Yeah Nah – when it comes to touching, I can only think about that ‘C’ thing I don’t want to mention. Sigh – it would be much more creative to write a love story huh?

Instead, you get this moment!

The willow tree was in shadow so deep she couldn’t see her hand in front of her face. She groped sightlessly into the darkness and then in that moment she touched something sticky. Cobwebs clung to her hand.   She shrieked and freaked.  She had always been terrified of spiders. 

Spider’s web

This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’.

17. Shadow monsters

Blind courage

Charlotte gazed out the window and listened to the sounds of the birds she could not see.  She imagined the birds flitting amongst the leaves, sipping on the sweet smelling nectar and fighting for the best flower patch.  She closed her eyes – for what use were they to her now – and listened. Eyesight grown dim with age, she could no longer perceive the colours  in the leaves nor watch the wind  tickling gently through the branches.

She knew there were other things out there in the shadows. She just didn’t know what they were. Her senses were attuned to the whisper of flitting wings, the rustle of the leaves and the squawking of the gulls. If only she could just figure out what those other scarier noises were.

Charlotte sighed and turned away from the window. Now was not the time. She had to get ready, and heaven knows, that in itself was a trial with her failing eyesight and fumbling fingers on the tiny buttons on her corset. Why were there so many voluminous skirts to wrestle with.  Whatever had happened to her stretch slacks and polar fleece pullover.

She didn’t know what else she could do. Trapped within herself, she struggled into the garments that had been placed out in readiness for her. She wondered what the colours were. Were they drab tan or a dull brown?  She imagined herself clad in the rainbow colours she remembered from her early years.

Perhaps it was a sea green silk to match her eyes, or a rich burgundy brocade to contrast with her auburn hair?  Yes that would do it – she would picture herself in her best finery and act accordingly. No need for them to see how broken she really was.  She could pretend that all was well with her and exude a self-confidence she no longer felt. After all, she had been the consummate actress back in the day when it was ok to be called an actress not just a gender neutral performer.  When and why did that change, she wondered?

Heavy steps pounded  and echoed up the stairs and then a sudden rapping at the door startled Charlotte out of her musings and pensive thoughts. They were coming for her. Now maybe she would find out just what was happening to her. 

She was determined to get answers to her questions.  Where was she?  When was she?Just what was that weird noise she had been hearing outside?  Were  the shadow monsters of her dreams coming to attack her?  She braced herself for the meeting. She took a deep breath and said, “Enter”.

This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’.

Day 1. The page where the heart speaks words

When the heart starts beating rapidly it is time. Don’t think about what others might think, just speak. Believe that the words will come. 

Sage advice given to this nervous first time public speaker many years ago. 
Standing up and speaking my mind was a scary thing to do. It’s not that I didn’t have words to say. It’s just that I felt too strongly about what my words meant to me. Where else would or could the words come from if not from my heart. And yet they resisted. 

Where are the pages of my notes? What if my voice croaks? What if they laugh at me? My fears threatened to overcome me. Who else has felt that fear? 

Hidden deep within the hidden  tunnels and crevices of my beating heart, I felt them start to stir. With each surge they got stronger. The words were on their way. 

It’s true that we speak when our heart is in our mouth. I hummed to myself…, “Drums keep pounding rhythm to my brain.  And the beat goes on! “
Then I thought;What  is the worst that can happen?  I set aside those notes. Just breathe. Just do it. And I did.   My heartfelt words found their way. And it was good. 


This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, July Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’