Here and There

Threw this one together quickly…not sure it can be kept up with in its leaps.  Apologies.  But I made something.  Thanks always Friday Fictioneers


Blue Walls & Vines

The blue of the walls was brighter than sky, made peaceful by children’s playthings.  The Other was far.  Another place, other time.  Among grapevines and meadows.

Both worlds had clouds.  I remember.  It takes time to conjure this up.

Her sky and those vines reminded me where I was – in a room full of chatter, chaotic with toys.  One is peace; one is peaceful.  Both are fraught.  Both are ripe.  There’s a difference.

We had hoped that it wouldn’t be great, but would carry.  And it does, in its longing, its loss.

Both are fraught, both are ripe.  Both are lovely.

N Filbert 2012


The Results in 79 words

The brothers knew it wasn’t right, what they had done.  Though Alfred had thought it was, before.  Not now, though, no one would argue the results.  Were bad.  Were harmful.  Would be difficult to live away, if ever.  Ends were so unlike their means, and either could be culpable.  The boys knew that now, blaming as they did each other, by which I mean, themselves.  Stuck with it, the consequences, are also new beginnings.  Arden took the cue.

N Filbert 2012


Survival in 79 words

He composes within the disaster.  Step one is to mention his life.  As it goes.  For the record.  Just in case.  Reassembling rubble is only one form of resist.  But not timing, nor space.  Step two is to edit.  To search what remains.  To look for a memorable trinket.  One rarely finds something precious, or treasure, but one man’s junk…because there aren’t any rules of the game.  Evaluation, correction, such fickle appraisals, are the process of finding step three…

N Filbert 2012

Pomegranates…in 78 words

The Temptress in 78 words

Her words taste pomegranate – the tart – bitter, erotic, and sweet.  I tickle them over my teeth with my tongue, trying to untie them.  I like the way the air glides over them, whispering cool and moist into my ears.  I swallow.  She speaks without using her mouth.  I listen hard.  So this is what it tastes like?  Is difficult to digest, it vaguely turns the stomach, and I want more.  Addicted as I am to the showers of seeds.

N Filbert 2012