Mother Earth | 100 Days of Flash Fiction – Day #6

100 Days of Flash Fiction, Short Stories & Flash Fictions

Prompt:

‘A moth-craft, ether, a plant that tells your fortune’


Those crumpling brown wings, which I once thought ugly and decrepit, let the sun through so beautifully, that I had no choice but to embrace its warmth. I stood beneath that large moth as it flew overhead, the rays overlaying another shade of brown to my skin. At last I bathed in it, and let it fasten itself to me. Then, as I strolled through the rest of the garden, the clouds drew themselves together. They were following the trail of liquid behind me – so I called to them:

‘Come, children, follow behind me.’

They were often jealous and angry, shifting their moods more frequently than the seasons themselves
(but I suppose in that sense they do take after their mother).

Cumulo chased ahead, riding the mists of the azure. The concave sky gave into his weight, as he dipped into the atmosphere to walk alongside me and drink from the pools of hawkmoth below my feet that carried me forward. In rage I blew him back up into the air, but in rage he blew it back out at me, flooding my pools with rain. Drop by drop, I began to fall through the slow-forming marsh, encased in his horrid opaque secretion, like that hideous spineless creature I expelled those years ago.

Woman (+audio🎤)

Poetry, spoken word poetry

Happy International Women’s Day everyone! Sometimes it annoys me that women are treated like amazing goddesses on this day, and praised for being super strong superwomen all the time without people ever actually vouching for change? So, I wrote this poem. Let me know what you think in the comments below! (PS – this may or may not have been inspired by Avatar)


You, woman, are
Sun
rising each day to
set each night
even though you know the pain of doing both.
 
You, woman, are
Sea
spreading yourself across continents simultaenously,
and sometimes even into those dark caves,
where no one else will go.
And yes, sometimes you are tsunami, sometimes you are
whirlpool
– good!
Some people deserve to be washed away,
I hope you make them drown.
 
You, woman, are
Soil
built from the mud lain before you,
growing things anew.
It’s a slow process, OK?
You’re still sprouting,
so don’t let anyone walk over you.
 
And you, woman, are
Woman
not a natural wonder or an unnatural disaster,
not divine nor domestic,
not anything you don’t want to be
 
Just,
woman.

NaPoWriMo #21 – w/o

NaPoWriMo 2019

Sometimes I think of what life would be without you. basically it would be terrible. my world upside down, the tears would fall from the ceiling and choke me. A wet, empty bed. The sheets on the floor, only because I couldn’t be bothered to put them on. No one will be coming here. The uncaged bird flies into the fan and splatters everywhere. Blood falls from the ceiling and chokes me.