Spectacular Indifference

Sometimes Colleen wanted more than her quiet life, tucked away on the edge of reality. The music she loved, songs she sang led her to believe the world was full of love. Her experience of it had been ages ago.

Men looked through her, chasing more exotic women. Men consulted Colleen for advice but seldom noticed her. Deep need never disappeared, but she was not in the proper place or time.

Once or twice, a man engaged her in conversation; most never caught her availability because she failed to flaunt it. Other women beguiled those who missed seeing her vibrance.

I meant it to be a Drabble; it did not quite work out. I have stories that refuse to conform to one hundred words.

I wrote this in my journal. It shifted a bit, as most things transposed do. I suppose I should chase the story, maybe one day.

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Finesse The Duress

Shall we carry all
The burden of yesterdays,
Boulders on our backs,
Never jettisoning packs
Or lessening the payload?
Do we relish what
No longer is ours to change,
Or do we begin
To hammer away what holds
Us prisoner with no face?
Are we blinded, bought,
Hard-pressed to hang in chains
Not ours to handle?
Going back cannot be done,
We deserve to frolic beneath
The sun in freedom bequeathed
Us by our chances taken
To provide what is, and
All which is to come.
We are overcomers
Those who will not be ground,
Left to wither, perish,
In deserts of depressing despair.
We embody traditions
The becoming, growing, rising, singing,
Leading out of the dark wilderness
Unable to contain the champions
We are destined, determined to be.

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The Light appeared, and many found in Him LOVE to build new lives.

Presents – Futures

Days and nights passing,
Dreams of presents, futures thought,
Highly suspect seem,
Because plans can go awry
Leaving us to wonder why.
In the movement of
The breeze the trees sing, their leaves,
Or branches gone bare,
There may be answers among
The voices set boldly free.
Whispers of hope, plans,
Filling space well enough
To guide through turmoil, lead
Into liberty,
Amass the treasure able
To make creation stable.
Longing for some simple sign
Showing one day the design
Imprinted so long ago
Will unleash patterns able,
To help everyone become such
As is wished, all loves may be.

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Trying The Drabble

Time is fundamental. It may be said, “Time governs the world, and especially the fortunes of humankind.”

However, time is a radical thing, capricious and mutable. It might propose futures bright and pleasurable but may deliver obstacles multifariously.

When Allen sat down on the floor of the house he had lived in for three years, he tried to sort out the confusion that plagued him. The moments sped as tears fell. The future, always held within his command, now came undone and became unknown. Depression took a shot at his psyche. Time, he knew, could be made, melded, or overcome.

A drabble is a story of 100 words. The above text is my first try. Generally, my stories are more verbose. Probably, I should take this further, but maybe or not. I have been reading short stories to acquaint myself with the form better.

As a prompt, write a drabble. If you like, toss me a link, and I will check it out.

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Dribbles

If you want to change
Your life you may rearrange
The furnishings of
Your placement, occupation,
Moving across the nation.

Tadpoles in water live,
Sprouting legs to become frogs,
Taking to land, air;
We form environments for
Our growth and satisfaction.

Music collides with
Feelings making everyone
Obtain happiness.

I held a droplet
In my hand to understand,
The lives of humans.