we collect sea shells
holding them up to our ears
the sea is calling
frail shells of starved flesh
rags draped over boney frames
we die for fashion
children are spoiled
when parents shell out money
it has no value.
kat -16 February 2017
For Haiku Horizons Challenge, prompt word: Shell,
A Three Line Tale for Sonya’s Three Line Tale Challenge based on this photo by Edwin Undrade via Unsplash.
photo by Edwin Undrade via Unsplash
But it was not clear what they were volunteering for, as evidenced by the mumbling that rumbled from the crowd, “What are we raising our hands for?”, “Did you hear the first part of the call?”, “I’m not sure…I just don’t want to be left behind.”
“Round them all up and take them to the holding cell,” the speaker proclaimed to his armed guards with a sinister smile, “our alien guests will be pleased with the variety of our menu!”
~kat – 16 February 2017
About the challenge: Each Tuesday I will provide a prompt photo, and your mission is to tell a story based on that prompt in 140 characters or less.
If you accept the challenge, be sure to let me know in the comments with a link to your tale. A final note: if you need help tracking the number of characters in your story, there is a nifty online tool that will count for you at charactercountonline.com.
I will do a roundup each Tuesday, along with providing us a new prompt. Have Fun!
Here is the roundup of last week’s creative twittering tales based on the photo below. If I missed your story, please let me know so I can add it to the line-up.
Photo from Pexels.com
From Michael at Morpethroad:
The cat trained me well. I knew when to fed it when to nurse it when to leave it alone.
It purred contentedly in my lap when happy with me.
(140 characters)
From Di at Pensivity101:
He could feel the love through the pain, and sighed.
She knew where to assert just enough pressure and with tears in her eyes, felt him go.
(138 characters)
From Willow at Willowdot21:
Tom was busy he took his work seriously! The food and perks were good.He was well loved and he was proud of his title Hospice Cat.
(139 Characters)
From Lorraine at 25WordsOrLess:
After many years of practice, Patricia perfected the Vulcan mind meld on cats. Live long and prospurr.
(102 characters)
From Ros at RamblingsFromRos:
No cats inside. Who was she to care? In a few minutes they would be somewhere without rules. She’d fed the cat. She just had to eat hers.
(138 characters)
From Joy at Poetry Joy:
Tired, sweetly supine in her
arms, this dear feline friend
remains more faithful than
the rest, whom time and age
gradually removed, dispersed
(140 characters)
She didn’t want to go, leave
this house and home, for who
else would know how to take
care of her darling cat or give
her such loving attention?
(140 characters)
She stroked him under the chin
and chuckled deep within, for
none could know this cat now
in sweet repose was none
other than a witch’s familiar
(140 characters)
From Kathryn at AnotherFoodieBlogger:
Gladys was fed up with the damned therapy cat they kept placing in her lap.
“Shhh kitty, be still. You won’t feel a thing.”
(139 Characters)
From Peter at Peter’s Ponderings:
Sophie, the dementia care cat, knew that she may be roughly handled, she didn’t mind. She’d seen too many come and go, but loved them all!
(140 characters)
Claude had been a faithful companion to Mary for 15 years. This was the best lap in the world. Together they breathed a last contented sigh!
(140 characters)
From Nicola at Sometimes Stellar Storyteller:
Every day I’ve squeezed the life from my childhood pet, and every day he’s woken, reborn. Defiant. Never will I be free of Lucifer’s cat.
(137 Characters)
From Kirstwrites:
Minutes ticked by. Every day just like the last, alone with her memories. At least the cat was company. She wished the phone would ring.
(138 Characters)
From Reena:
The bridal henna was fading away, but Kitty had not allowed my husband to come near me. It was a tough choice between love and loyalty.
(135 characters)
From Gayl:
Old, Wrinkled, Still Beautiful
Her hands were wrinkled, but still a certain beauty lingered about her.
Trouble is it seemed no one cared except her fluffy feline friend.
(138 characters)
Grief and Comfort
Her heart was heavy. Her soul mate was dead.
Kitty seemed to sense her pain and refused to leave.
It brought a bit of comfort in her grief.
(139 characters)
The Gift of a Pet
Bella loved Sam, a gift from her son.
She laughed at the antics of this furry pet.
He wore himself out, only to sleep peacefully in her lap.
(140 characters)
From Irena at Books and Hot Tea:
My pet loves to cuddle and I love the soft touch, too. But at times, the pet cuddles for too long. I guess that’s what I have the claws for.
(140 characters)
From sydthejack at 2WholeMinutes:
I stroked his neck, his fur and purring calming me, centering me. Our eyes met, a silent understanding between us. My bubby, his human.
(136 Characters)
From Mick E. Talbot Poems:
twittering tales
from the hearts of many
love despair hope
so much goodness
twittering tales all from the heart
love hope empathy
Twittering Tales (Acrostic)
Twittering
Wishes
Interesting too
Taken from life
Tales
Experiences
Reflections
Inner visions
Nature
Glimmering
Take heed
All thee who care
Love
Evolution
Seek truth
(Characters: 140)
From Pat at Black Cat Alley:
Gran is a-jammin’
smokin’ right
her groove got
with bat alight.
Gran is a-jammin’
in 7th Heaven
she her weed
me my seed
nippy cat’s meow
delight.
(character count: 136)
and from me:
Morty
Morty roamed the halls of Shady Grove growling at anyone who got too close. But it was well-known if he liked you, your days were numbered.
(139 Characters)
Thank you EVERYONE for participating. Such sweet, whimsical, and macabre tales this week. What a variety! And thank you as well for sharing the challenge with your friends and followers. A few new voices joined the challenge. Hope everyone comes back this week to tell the tale of the photo below. In honor of Valentine’s Day I give you Twittering Tale #17.
Photo from Pixabay.com
She walked here each day. Norm traced a heart in the sand. As she passed by, a huge wave swallowed his ankles. “Tomorrow,” he sighed.
(134 Characters)
kat – 14 February 2017
Photo from Pixabay.com
those who curse the rain
forget that we are water
and muddy puddles!
kat ~ 9 February 2017
For Haiku Horizons Challenge, prompt word: Rain.
There was a legend told of old by fisherman who ought to know…
“To find yourself a bonnie bride, when the moon is full, high in the sky, get thee to the northern shore to spy the selchies sleeping on the rocky shoal. They lay their her heads upon soft beds of silky skin that they have shed. Choose the lass most beautiful and hide her pelt before she wakes. Forevermore she will be yours unable to return into the deep.”
Some townsfolk swear the legend is true. And if you doubt it they’ll tell you this tale.
One stormy evening at a local pub, a young lad named Benjamin overheard a few old salts prattling at the bar about this and that and the selchie legend. He decided to see if it was true. On the very next full moon night he set out for the selchie shore with a shovel and an empty satchel.
Glistening in the pale moonlight, not one but four maidens slept upon their silken hides. Benjamin crept silently from one to another to the next and the next, his heart racing with indecision. Each one was more radiant than the former and he feared the witching hour would pass before he chose his bonnie lass.
So Benjamin did what any young lad would do when faced with a such a choice and nothing to lose. He gathered all four pelts, stuffed them in the satchel and rushed inland to bury them.
He returned to the shore, as the sun was rising with cloaks to cover his lovely maidens. One by one they stirred awake and when they set their eyes upon his face, each was overcome with pure devotion.
It was a young man’s dream. Benjamin swelled with pride as he led his harem into town to his simple stick-built shack. Never was a man happier than Benjamin on that day and the many days that followed.
But as the blush of new love faded, each selchie maiden became jaded, not happy to share their Benjamin with the other. They came to see that being human was not at all what they dreamed it would be. Oh, how they longed to return home to the freedom of the sea.
Together they devised a plan to rise before the cockle doodle, while Benjamin was fast asleep, to search for their pelts along the selchie shore. They would never find their treasure, and Benjamin, who had become accustomed to having four-fold attention, never gave away his hiding place once he learned of their scheme.
Alas, these poor selchie maidens four were immortal, yet cursed to a life of human misery. Benjamin eventually died an old man with a secret and they continued to scan the beach, some say, even to this very day.
You might even catch a glimpse of them there, by setting out before the dawn, just as the amber sun is cresting along the selchie shore.
-kat – 7 February 2017
A tale for Jane Dougherty’s Microfiction Challenge based on the painting above by Frederick Leighton.
like mercury colliding... 