Scribblings by Sarah

Flapdoodle 

I am an Abstract Evil Barbie. So please Stop Calling Me Frank and give me The Pineapples from the Dawn of Time. 

Take them to the Bimbo Toolshed and store them with my GoGo Penguins and Loudmouthkitten. Don’t get all Kissyfoot about it or I’ll serve you to the Devil with Cheese! 

Now leave me in peace to complete my Reign of Frogs. And close the Squirrel Nut Zippers behind you!

By Sarah ©2017

Image credit Pixabay

Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Sunday Writing Prompt, #224 – Name That Tune
Task: YES – these are real.group.band.names. REAL.Anyhow, there are 10 selections. Pick a few, one or two – and create something, anything, maybe 3? Let yourself just have a ball with these. Create whatever – short story, flash fiction, poem. Just play.

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Haiku, Poetry by Sarah

Space For Self


Image credit Cathal Mac an Bheatha

make space for yourself
overcome the fear and peer
through your heart’s window

By Sarah ©2017


Prompt: TJ’s Household Haiku, window and heart; Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Sunday Writing Prompt #219; Daily Post Daily Prompt, overcome

Scribblings by Sarah

Night Sounds

Night time.
I lie and wait for sleep to come.

I try to calm my busy mind.
– but sounds distract me.

A scratching against the window
– hedges wrestling with the breeze.

Tick tick tick
– clock on the wall.

A distant, constant, low hum
– stream of traffic on the freeway.

A faint tooting blast
– overnight passenger train from Melbourne.

An occasional car rumbling past our house
– soon followed by a door slamming.

My phone pings an alert 
– to attend or ignore? (Attend usually wins out)

Further stimulating my mind
– covers rustle as I struggle to find a comfortable position.

Dogs give a warning growl
– if I disturb them in the process.

I sigh with frustration as the hours pass by
– my elusive rest accentuated by my husband’s gentle snoring.

By Sarah ©2017


Prompt and Image Credit: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Sunday Writing Prompt #218, September 3 – Night Sounds

Scribblings by Sarah, Stories by Sarah

Close To The Sun


Image credit By Sarah ©;   Sunset at Mt McKay

Some of the best views of the high country, are near Falls Creek, Victoria. 

I was currently trudging up Mt McKay and racing the clock to see a sunset. At 1,849 metres above the sea level, it is the highest spot in Australia accessible by road; and I was feeling every one of those metres as I huffed and puffed my way up. The gravel of the path crunched under my hiking boots as I walked along. That, combined with the bird song and wind gently rustling the leaves, provided a soundtrack; a rhythm; that kept me moving. I had to hurry, if I wanted to see it; time was running out. 

I rounded the final corner, and saw I was just in time. The sight of the bluish-tinged, bush covered mountains of the Australian Alpine National Park greeted me. It was a 360o panorama of absolute wilderness that made my skin tingle. The cerise rays of the setting sun dipped lower and lower in the sky before slipping away completely. I was all alone, witnessing nature’s spectacular show. It was magical.

I pulled open my back pack, had a drink of water and crunched on an apple. I popped in my earbuds and turned my iPod onto random. I smiled to myself, appreciating the serendipitous moment, as the first few notes of David Usher’s Too Close To The Sun, began to play…

By Sarah ©2017


Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Writing Prompt #217 – Stories By 5
The five
:
Topic – A walk in the forest
Name – Usher
Fruit – apple
Colour – cerise
Sensation – tingle

Free Verse, Poetry by Sarah

The Girl Who Was Made Of Glass

Recitations of love fell on deaf ears,
She couldn’t risk the words shattering her perfect world.
She had constructed for herself, a fragile universe,
Where everything was made of glass.

She liked the way the light shimmered,
Reflected and bounced off the surface.
Here, she could control the pace; the energy.
Keeping everything safe, including her heart.

Until one day, drawn in by the glittering landscape,
A tiny bird flew into a window, breaking its wing.
She carefully nursed it until finally,
It could repay her kindness with its song.

The girl realised how lonely she had been
and decided to leave her glass kingdom.
As she opened the door to the world beyond
She broke into a million pieces.

Finally free from her glass coffin.

By Sarah ©2017


Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, It’s All In The Title – August 20, 2017; Daily Post Daily Prompt, recite 

Haiku, Poetry by Sarah

Minstrel Heart


Image credit Christian Schloe


words pouring; flowing;

exploring chaos of life

with her minstrel heart


By Sarah ©2017


Author’s Note: I felt bad for cropping her out, so she gets a post of her own (and the challenge has elicited two responses out of me today!)

Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Special Collage – 6 August 2017; The Syllabub Sea, Haiga Heaven, Challenge 33 – minstrel

Scribblings by Sarah, Stories by Sarah

The Sparrow and The Fox


Image credits Window – Andrey Bobir; Fruit Center – Kevin Sloan


One day, a hungry fox stole some fruit from the tree where sparrow lived. Although the tree was laden with fruit, and she had plenty to spare, the greedy sparrow saw him and gave chase, determined to get it back. She believed the tree and all that was on it, belonged to her.

She flew high above, watching and following, as he ran and ran. Soon the fox grew tired and began to slow. When he stopped to enjoy his prize, the sparrow seized the opportunity and swooped down. 

Just as the fox was about to bite into the juicy papaya, the sparrow tore off a strip from the fruit and spat it onto the ground. The fox looked at the spoiled food, dismayed.

“Why did you do that?” he asked the sparrow.

“Because that fruit is mine, and I’ll do with it what I like,” she replied haughtily.

The fox shrugged his shoulders and went to take another bite. But just as before, the sparrow darted in and tore off more flesh from the fruit, spitting it out onto the dirt.

Undeterred, the fox kept trying to eat. But each time, the sparrow stole his mouthful from under him, preferring to see it rot on the ground, than have another eat it.

Soon, the papaya was gone and the fox remained hungry.

Satisfied, the selfish sparrow flew away. The fox followed her with his gaze, making sure she was fully out of sight before, looking down and smiling.

The spiteful bird was so intent on taking back her fruit, that she had overlooked the most important part. 

She had left the seeds.

And now, the fox could grow his own tree…

By Sarah ©2017

Author’s Note: This story is a little “left-field” and very different to my usual style. I really struggled to incorporate all elements of the prompt, so cropped the lady out of the collage. I took the quote as inspiration for the “layers” in my short story. The piece turned into a type of fable or tale that might be told for story therapy! There is obviously the literal tale, but underneath that, there is metaphor. It could be a tale of someone trying to break someone’s spirit but failing, as long as they have hope. Or a tale of someone who has the world, trying to keep others powerless. What is your interpretation? I’d love to hear it…

Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Special Collage – 6 August 2017

Free Verse, Poetry by Sarah

Skin Deep

Lying was her new truth.
And she was drowning in it.

The weight of it all.
Made it difficult to breathe sometimes.

She felt her loyalty was just a tattoo
Skin deep, like a quote about love.

But she was helpless to change things.
She was stuck in this generation.

By Sarah ©2017


Image credit ©Phoebe Rudomino 

Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Sunday Writing Prompt, July 30 – surfacing

Scribblings by Sarah, Stories by Sarah

Mayday

The ghost tour had been uneventful so far, and I felt somewhat disgruntled at having paid extra for the EMF meter and infrared goggles. We had been into the women’s ward, the men’s ward (affectionaly known as the ‘bullpit’) and the laundry – with no activity at all.

As the tour guide opened the door to the new building, she announced dramatically, “This is Olivene where we held the worst of the worst; the criminally insane.”

I stepped inside the courtyard. Rooms that more resembled cells, formed an ‘L’ around the central space, with an ‘L’ the other way, consisting of open bathrooms and a dining area. Even in broad daylight, this place would give you chills.

The guide continued but I had zoned out, her voice static in the background. My eye was drawn to one of the doorways. I shuddered and stepped closer, despite every instinct telling me to run. My EMF meter started to light up. Rooted to the ground, my shaking hands lifted the infrared goggles. As I peered through them, a solid shadow of a man filled the cell. I whirled around, bumping into the shelving next to me. And that’s when I saw the head…

By Sarah ©2017

Author’s Note: My response to the prompt is based on a real experience I had (except for the head part!). I was on an investigative ghost tour at the old Mayday Hills Lunatic Asylum in Beechworth, Victoria and saw through the infrared goggles, a man where there was none. Believe it or not. If you are ever in the area, it is a VERY interesting place with an awful and fascinating history. Find out more about the history and tours by clicking on the appropriate word for the link.

Prompt: Sunday Photo Fiction – July 30th 2017, 200 word limit; Daily Post Daily Prompt: continue

Free Verse, Poetry by Sarah, Scribblings by Sarah

Beautiful Lies

How many days had I been here?
Sitting at this table,
Watching the flowers wilt and die.
As he cooks me up his special brew.

Spices; herbs; stirred with a clear elixir.
My dear, this will fix your headache.
My love, your pain will dissipate.
My darling, you’re too excitable.

Let me ease your womanly discomforts.
But they were all beautiful lies.
A recipe for keeping me here.
Captive.

Addicted.
Dying.
Dead now.
Like the flowers.

I’m cast aside for his next target
He tells more beautiful lies,
To anyone who will listen.
It is all too easy.

by Sarah ©2017

Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Sunday Writing Prompt, July 16, 2017 – Fine Dining Kitchen Tricks

Haibun, Poetry by Sarah, Scribblings by Sarah

Love Breaks My Bones

I lay on the feathery bed, impatient; waiting; wanting. My body is swooning at the mere thought of you. I glance at the clock and wince with longing. It feels an age until you will be home. Time seems to go slower when you’re not around, and speed up in keeping with my heartbeat, when you are. I ache for you to be one with my skin. To feel what I feel, to know what I know, to dream what I dream for –  being so close as if we are one whole, complete only when together. We are a formidable team – loyal; strong; indestructible; cherished. You finally arrive home, and as I crush you into me, you whisper, “Love breaks my bones and I laugh”.

this flowering love
with laughter sees our flaws as
petals not yet thorns

 

By Sarah ©2017

Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, Saturday’s Hunt-01 July 2017 and Sunday Writing Prompt – July 2, 2017, Love Flowers