tread for days blood pours in a drowning diving into oceans. A murmur in the stillness of the sea absent in the lunula white, weeping in the dying of the eventide may you decide to leave as the crawfish float in unyielding waters, delusional, still seeking the innocence of the rock, give it a kiss for me before … Read More once a tree stood.
Last week’s prompt for Horror House Wednesday (HHW) was the following: “Isn’t this… Romantic?” “You’re a psychopath.” And boy, you psychopaths really outdone yourselves. 😉 Each entry was different, some were twisted and saturated with horror, others lighter with romance, dark humor and mystery. It was like a Christmas come early or rather a Christmas in July reading these entries and seeing how the prompt … Read More Horror House Flash Fiction Contest #4 Winner.
Here are the rest of the flash fiction entries in the order received: The Loch Ness Monster by raedvdr We rode out to the loch in your dad’s silver merc; you drove. Giggling, laughing, we stripped on the water’s edge letting our clothes fall together. Our eyes stealing shy glimpses of smooth skin. We swam out into the loch, out to the deep water; … Read More Horror House Flash Fiction Contest #3 Entries.
Of one memory, one for the end of the dark does not lie, I will not lie in it; darkness perfused I shut the window; here he bleeds, here he lies, though nothing is there. In furrows, mercy, it is laughable. The Earth succinct in waves in a lonely larva the dead poet’s dreams. Stand under my umbrella, we embrace in impassioned poverty of … Read More A sea becomes.
If ever I were to meetthe dream by sea-green eyesas they sleep, a beveled glassyet a reverie, I would imposeupon those that leftin the legs of wombto a leave-taking of melancholyas death alone drownsas the darkened sunset drowns. A sway of dark weeps,the ocean bleeds in the lithe rockswaddled at the surfdebased into what is leftthat cannot die,It was a dream that wasn’t mine. … Read More a dream that wasn’t mine.
Here are the rest of the flash fiction entries in the order received: Untitled by Chris Ludke. How did I get here? Being lost is normal for me because I move around so much. I often wake up and ask myself, “Where the hell am I?” It’s not a scary feeling. I’m also lost when driving. One time I was trying to find my … Read More Horror House Flash Fiction Contest #2 Entries.
Well, this was not an easy decision. Quite honestly, once upon a time, I was against the idea of holding contests here because I never like having to just pick one entry as a winner. It’s akin to picking a favorite candy—there isn’t just one in mind, is there? Last week’s prompt was a quote (originating from my WIP, funny enough, that I thought … Read More Horror House Flash Fiction Contest #1 Winner.
has died, beautiful dreamer; the sea is a language of loneliness, legs struck in the waves to the break of oaks and I finally arrived to the holes in the ocean, to in a dream I’ve left behind. A/N: Written in response to the Go Dog Go Cafe’s prompt: Use “beautiful dreamer” in a piece of poetry or prose.
Hidden in senses, we, alone, are disenchanted in the sleep blue mist, as an expanse of ghosts and dreams never had. Leave behind our minds, the dispensation of a white trance in the universe; leave behind the resinous trees secreting mist where no space is left. The shadows of our mind, displaced in amber, consumed in a streaked world with skeletal memories left to … Read More Hidden.
Photo prompt response to Crimson’s Creative Challenge #69 Word count: 101. As though the sleep mist has trembled in my hands In the distant overflows of shadows, Descending in lament, These shadows of our lament; We walk into the light, We walk to drown in celestial darkness, Our nourishing gardens In chrome-like bowls of red dirt and dust; Stones erect in the mirage … Read More Dreams we’ve never had.
Photo prompt response to Crimson’s Creative Challenge #68 Word count: 149. A/N: Hopefully, this isn’t too morbid. Horror genres are somewhat in place. Darkness emerged. His eyes flickered helplessly at the waters. It was no dream. On his right side, he positioned his arm back, catching the waves as they curled, and he felt his shoulders spasm—the push and pull through the cold. Elliot … Read More Bridge (Flash Fiction).
Photo prompt response to Crimson’s Creative Challenge #67 Word count: 144. It was a bad heat wave in August that pushed away through the blue sweat, twisted and rolled on the nooks and crannies of us all. An extended rain came down, gradually coming and going, moving in a stutter—and as I watched, an eerily spume came forth from the clouds; they blackened. … Read More Free (Flash Fiction).