sunrise

FlashNano Day 21: “We are longing…”

/ Liz H-H / 1 Comment
purple violets on a black background

A contemplative piece, part true, part fantasy, from the place where dreams slumber? Day 21 of a flash a day in the month of November. Inspiring prompts generously offered by Nancy Stohlman.

We Are Longing

The city street is deserted, trolleys on the next block down stopped, their electric hum silent in this liminal moment just before sunrise. A cat strolls liquid over cobblestones and around the edges of the shop doors, slipping away after having surveyed the trash cans and finding nothing to its liking. We sit on our black railed balcony on the third floor and drink in the desires of those who have not yet shaken the dreams from their blankets.

We are early risers and we are longing.

Continue reading →

Morning Song

/ Liz H-H / 18 Comments

From Jenne Gray and C.E. Ayr’s photo prompt: The Unicorn Challenge (04/21/23). No more than 250 words in length. Otherwise, let your creative flag fly!

Moon sets as sun rises, soon disappearing behind a tiny fist of palm. Palm no longer whips, panicked in the worst thunderstorm since forever. The marina is still, taking no damage from wave and wind; the marina is well-protected. That’s why she brought him here.

She looks down at him lying half-out of the water, still handsome despite the battering and near-drowning. He breathes, begins to rouse. There’s a decision to make.

These humans are so fragile!  Continue reading →

The Throne

/ Liz H-H / 11 Comments

It could have been a field of flowers, apricot sunrise honeying all. It could have been a berry patch, spread round with her the center, fingers damp with morning dew. It might’ve even been a dragon’s hoard, doubloons spilling from ruby-studded chalices, heavy pendants on worked, chain necklaces, diamond and emerald tiara resting on her head, proclaiming her queen of all she surveyed.  Continue reading →

Sunday Morning

/ Liz H-H / Leave a comment

canoeing girlI lift my paddle for a moment, hearing but not noting the drip of water that slides off its smooth, blond curve. My canoe slices through the morning cool, bisecting and self-healing the waters as I pass. Below the dark water, silent lake grass caresses sand and small, secret pebbles.  Continue reading →