THE MIRAGE SALE @miragesale-blog - Tumblr Blog

WINDY WEDNESDAY AFTERNOON BEFORE THE BELL The beloved solitary dungeon is back in your manacled hands, following the weekend visit from the landlord and his family.

MONDAY MORNING Naked, the hoses were turned on you in winter, the aim being to make human popsicles. Later, you obeyed the order and started to eat the grass in the stadium on all fours.

ONE EYED PRINCESS The sleeping snakes replace the threads of your dressing gown, but you can probably never be sure.

CAPTION CASE An open palm of months living in a haunted house, overlooked by an imprisoned lion, where a red couch will one day soon hold unrecorded green dreams, and then, nearer to a nattering noon, a tormented land of honey will hopefully endure.

BILL IS DEAD A little rattling off the misty window starts speaking until the steam from the kettle joins in.

SINGLE SETTING The name of the dawn's first bird escapes you, same as all your dreams of late. Your neighbour the moon and you haven't really spoken, only exchanged silent, wild looks across the dinner table, while the remains of guests still incessantly gibber or discuss in detail every dish.

SS PRIVET Three times you woke during the night, with three dreams that left your view upon realising your camera eye presence.

RISING THE RAISING A predawn desire to leave everyone and everything in the churning pool of busyness and go off by oneself and plunge deep into the ever darkening sea is broken by the little girl's upset stomach, the news related by the little boy, who comes in to your room to let you know, the salt air still on your lips.

PINK DIAMOND The pink diamond pinned to the cork noticeboard once used to be paper and sticky tape. Just the right sunrise can change it considerably.

PORRIDGE The seasons in the lines of your face can't make their mind up. A young boy and an old man compare fingernails, and fill up an barrow with what they find beneath them.

RETURN TO THE COAST Your son is unexpectedly up early from bed despite last night's late night return back to the house.

LEMONS The kitchen is stretching itself awake. Cupboards creak. The kettle settles itself on a low burner so it won't be tempted to loudly whistle when the water's hot enough for tea and wake the rest of the house.

A SHEET AND A DRESS A wisp of pale blue sky is the sandwich filling between the slices of this dawn's darkness.

WASHING MACHINE The sword you once carried over continents stretched the length of two tall men, and although it could be occasionally awkward when traversing dusty windblown lands, there was next to nothing you'd prefer for company.

MEMORY OF FIRE From the cicadas' droning song to Sancho liberally sampling the goat herder's wine, you are here within another day, following a delightful breakfast of chick peas and sardines before you were off watering the new herb garden, the parsley now needing new growth after the morning meal, the scent from the fire last night still circling in the air, imploring you to remember something beyond such surroundings (agreeable though they are) ... something akin to a long lost key turning inside an awaiting lock at last.

Whoever it was who said you can never go home again should sit and sip some tea.

#Green tea #MS100+#Punctuation #Story #Writing

Whoever it was who said you can never go home again should sit and sip some tea. For this particular monster, green can work wonders, even lessen the size of the head. Or take a look at those talons: they're almost fingers again. A line of white pepper clouds adorns the edge of the escarpment this dawn, all birds oddly absent - until now! - a solitary voice vanishing as quickly as it came with the dot of the exclamation mark. 'Those who know the season are in exile.'

Whoever it was who said you can never go home again should sit and sip some tea. For this particular monster, green can work wonders, even lessen the size of the head. Or take a look at those talons: they’re almost fingers again. A line of white pepper clouds adorns the edge of the escarpment this dawn, all birds oddly absent – until now! – a solitary voice vanishing as quickly as it came with the dot of the exclamation mark. ‘Those who know the season are in exile.’

Whoever it was who said you can never go home again should sit and sip some tea. For this particular monster, green can work wonders, even lessen the size of the head. Or take a look at those talons: they’re almost fingers again. A line of white pepper clouds adorns the edge of the escarpment this dawn, all birds oddly absent – until now! – a solitary voice vanishing as quickly as it came with…

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