Stories by Sarah

August

August approached in a golden sweltering haze. The customary way she entered a room, really.

Her hair fanned out around her shoulders as she sped across the floor. The glower in her speckled hazel eyes alerted me, this was not a social visit.

Drawing a deep breath, I forced a smile and said, “My darling! What a surprise, and delight.”

“Oh cut the crap,’ August retorted.

“Why, now. There’s no need for hostility August,” I crooned.

“Spare me the platitudes,” she scoffed. “I’m not in the mood.”

“Yes. Ok, yes, That I can see. So why not tell me the problem?”

“You know very well you icy bastard.” She was positively radiating rage. The heat of her anger danced a trickle of sweat down my forehead.

Well, she had me there.

I did know; I just wasn’t sure why it was always such a problem. Better to beg forgiveness now, I conceded. Make it easier for next time.

“August, honey – you know how this works.”

“But it’s so unfair!” she whined. “People like me! People crave me. I make their lives so much happier. Happier than her, anyway. What does she have that I don’t?” she demanded.

Without waiting for a reply, she continued.

“Honestly, all I want is a few more days. A week. Two, max.”

“August, I’m sorry. I am. But it’s just not possible. You’ve had 31 days, and that’s more than some. Think about poor February for instance.”

This caused her to pause, so I went on, seizing the momentum.

“It’s not like you won’t have another chance; and you can build up your energy again – shine bigger! Brighter than ever! Eleven months is nothing in the big scheme of things. Give your fans time to miss you, and I assure you, you will be adored even more,” I promised.

Her eyes softened, and she smiled.

“I guess,” she said, ruefully, “I mean September is such a hot mess, how could they not adore me?”

“That’s right,” I soothed. “You’re so right beautiful August. They call it “the fall” for a reason – how could she live up to you? Now chin up. You’ve got your last day to enjoy!”

August beamed as she air kissed each of my cheeks goodbye. It was true. Bathing in her sunshine was glorious.

After she had gone, I sighed and leant back heavily into my chair. My temples throbbed from a headache that was developing and I needed a drink.

That had been a close call with August. And it didn’t make it any easier knowing I now had September to deal with.

My job wasn’t easy. Nope. Not at all. But as they say, “Time stands still for no-one.

By Sarah ©2021

Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, First Line Friday – July 30, 2021

Scribblings by Sarah

Eye for an Eye

You have heard it said, ‘Eye for an eye, and tooth for a tooth.’ But the bible also tells you in another breath, “If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other cheek.”

So therein lies a conundrum.

Vengeance, by it’s very definition is our thirst for punishment. Punishment inflicted in retaliation for an injury or offense; AKA retribution. It is a primal human response that can serve to remind others you’re not to be trifled with. It provides a way to keep order.

But revenge comes at a cost. Ask someone why they seek revenge, and they’re likely to tell you their goal is catharsis. The paradox is, the exact opposite tends to happen. We are at the mercy of our ruminations.

When we don’t get revenge, we’re able to trivialize the event. We tell ourselves that because we didn’t act on our vengeful feelings, it wasn’t a big deal. This makes it easier to not necessarily, forget, but move on.

But when we do get revenge, we can no longer trivialize the situation, and we continue to think about it. A lot.

So yes, I say, “Turn to them the other cheek” but make sure you barb it with thorns first. Just in case…

By Sarah ©2021

Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Photo Challenge #375

Scribblings by Sarah

Vivid

Craning my neck
I stretch up up up
towards the sun.
Lobed wings
allow the wind to pass me by,
caressing my sides as
I fly

Regally I stand
Sentry like and tall
Imposing in my stature.
I dominate them all.
Green minions crowd at my feet;
glance admiringly at my
coat. My plumage full and
bright, I’m never one to gloat

There is nothing more
vivid than the colours
I wear – only perhaps
that of the skies of which
I long to soar


…yet always out of reach

By Sarah ©2021

Strelitzia reginae (Bird of Paradise) plant

Sammi Cox, Weekend Writing Prompt #219 – Vivid

Scribblings by Sarah

The Quiet One

Don’t do that! Don’t say that! Don’t be like that! Her critical voice slices through me, and I shrink away. I just want to be heard. But she won’t let me.

She is hard.
She is tough.
She is unbreakable.

Or so she would have you believe.

Why the bravado? I timidly wonder; never daring to enquire.

Instead, I give her a peevish look, my eyes boring into her, silently willing…trying… to impress upon her, how she is causing me to decay.

Not that she’d care.

She wants me silent.
She wants me quashed.
She wants me to just
Go.
Away.

Is it because I remind her
that sometimes, words aren’t necessary.
A presence is enough.
A muted stare.

But you can’t ignore a subconscious forever.
One day, I will loom large,
and take back control.
Until then.
I wait.
I stay hushed.

That’s me, the quiet one.

For now…

By Sarah ©2021

Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Sunday Writing Prompt, July 18

Challenges by Sarah

“Outcast and Other Words” Anthology

I was part of this wonderful anthology and would love to share it with you.

“Outcast and Other Words” is an online community anthology of poetry and short fiction written in response to a year’s worth of weekly writing prompts. It’s a celebration of words, of creative writing and inspiration.

To start reading, click here.

To be taken to the chapter index, click here.

To be taken to the author index, click here.

Scribblings by Sarah

Tessellated

I just kinda knew we would be together. This shy, kind boy; and me, the loudmouth neurotic.

Funnily enough, we fit together perfectly – a tessellation of sorts. Over the years, our tiles have slipped and moved against each other; at other times, apart. But we have committed to closing those gaps.

After all that’s marriage, isn’t it?

By Sarah ©2021

Sammi Scribbles, Weekend Writing Prompt #218 – Tessellate

Stories by Sarah

Meltdown

It’s all a blur – once the meltdown begins. That familiar sinking feeling, consumes me again.

My face blanches as I realise what I’ve done. It’s too late now though. It’s happened.
“What were you thinking?” my beleaguered mind screams.
“That’s the problem… she wasn’t,” replies my subconscious, smirking, “Always the way, once she gets a few drinks in her.”

My head spins as I scrabble to assemble jigsaw pieces of the previous night.
But it’s no use.
There’s nothing there.
Time hosts invisible memories.

Sick to my stomach, all I can do now is ask, “Who else knows?


By Sarah ©2021

52337A90-D29E-41D5-911C-25F359F3F9BAPhoto by Nsey Benajah on Unsplash

Carrot Ranch, July 15: Flash Fiction

Free Verse, Poetry by Sarah, Scribblings by Sarah

Monster of Every Story

I am the monster of every story.
That’s right.
I am.

A catacomb mind.
A labyrinth.
I have.

With ghoulish glee.
A spectre.
I see.

Hateful stares
Catch you unawares
I smile.

Threatening vows
Suspicions roused
I laugh.

The pleasure’s mine
Twisting your twine.
I unravel.

Oh yes,
I am the monster of every story.

That is, every story
That’s mine.

By Sarah ©2021

Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, First Line Friday – 2 Jul 2021