Very Short Stories No. 7 (#vss365)

Collection No. 7 of Very Short Stories posted on my Twitter (@sm_saves). Enjoy.


Close (02/03/19)
They draw close under the covers. They are young, still free to challenge being taught they should close the door on each other.

An exchange between the same is not life giving, the others say.

But they give each other life when society threatens to take it away.


Convict (02/04/19)
Convicted of a crime he didn’t commit, the sentence handed down was stiff: 86 years, no hopes of parole. He saw his wife, tears in her eyes.

Two years later, his new cell mate arrives. A skinny convict with death in his eyes. “I got them all.” The voice was his wife’s.


Deliberate (02/05/19)
She deliberated for a hot second. Clearly this was a deliberate cash-for-money scam.

“Of course I’ll wire the processing fee for my prize, but I’m out of gas. Can you mail me $20 cash? Charge it to my winnings.”

When the envelope arrived, she smiled.


Desert (02/06/19)
To desert the team was bad.

To desert them in the middle of the desert at high noon was deplorable.

To purposefully teleport them all to the middle of the desert at high noon with an ice cream cone in each team member’s hand was purest evil.


Object (02/07/19)
He objected. “This,” he waved to the hexagonal object, “is a precious heirloom.”

“If so precious how’d it end up here?” A fire hazard of an antique shop, she thought.


“$75.” She slapped down the cash.

Outside she paired it with its siblings. “One more to go.”


Bougie (02/08/19)
Bougie babes in hot pants with letters on their butts scare me. I repel them in my second hand clothes and resist the keeping-up-with-the-Joneses mentality. I’d rather be vintage than broke.


Rando (02/09/19)
A day in the city. They snapped selfies at the gardens, museums, and the pier. On the train they reviewed their pictures.

“Delete that one. There’s a rando guy behind us.” He was in the next one. He was in all of them.

They posed for a train selfie and he was there too.


Thank you for reading.


Figure It Out

Written for the #PoemTrail prompts “piece of oblivion” and “figure it out”. Posted today @sm_saves.


Mood on a pendulum swing.
Heart palpitates
unreasonable self demands
to have it all figured out.
A creator of all paths
forward in the right direction.
Seer of the future
devoted to a corporate machine
for the comfort of a steady check
because dreams can’t be eaten.


Thank you for reading.

Of Dreams

Written for #PoemTrail prompts psychdelic psithurism and kaleidoscope. Posted yesterday @sm_saves.


I miss the surprise

of kaleidoscopic dreams.

When I close my eyes

I move through walls

and shed my disguise

to be wild but clean.

There the trees are wise.

The wind lends them its voice.

In the psithurism lies

the inevitability of forgetfulness

upon waking.


Thank you for reading!

Very Short Stories No. 6 (#vss365)

Collection No. 6 of Very Short Stories posted on my Twitter (@sm_saves).


Parents (01/27/19)
I had two parents for nearly 29 years.


Stick (01/28/19)
She picked up a another stick and tossed it on her back. A pair of riders came to a halt on the road. “How much for the kindle? We’re burning a witch tonight.” They took her load for two coins. As she watched them ride she took a stick and carved spells into the ground.


London (01/29/19)
If I ever went to London,
which London would I choose?
London Above?
London Below?
There’s also Un Lun Dun too!


Pantomime (01/30/19)
He met her at the ticket window. Her eyes shone through the glass. Their first date was a pantomime. They were invited on stage to dance. As he spun her round and round the clowns began to laugh. The lights burned out, left him alone, dancing with his past.


Bliss (01/31/19)
He found bliss with his little country girl who trained show horses. He’d hoot and wave when it was her turn in contests and parades. Every blue ribbon, newspaper clipping he hung on his wall next to the horseshoes of the last horse she ever rode.


Read (02/01/19)
She wrote him letters everyday and read them out loud to her reflection. Then she’d read her horoscope hoping to divine if it was the perfect day. The letters, addressed with correct postage, collected dust beneath her window.


Bow (02/02/19)
Asking for a volunteer, a girl is whisked on stage. He takes a bow from her hair and makes it disappear. From her ear he reveals a 24 karat chain. Tying it around her neck he instructs her to pull it loose. Into his hands her head drops. She curtseys as he takes a bow.


Thank you for reading.


Dizzy Spells

Written for the #PoemTrail prompts celestial storm and dizzy. Posted today on Twitter @sm_saves. Minor changes were made.


Dizzy spells feel as natural

as handling a hand grenade.

Could it be lack of substance

or something in my brain?

A thing with wolf’s teeth

and spidery limbs

setting off celestial storms

all across my body.

Leaving me quaking, shaking,

worrying Death.


Thank you for reading. 🙂