(dis)appearingI am supposed to be having fun at one of these dreary pubs(dis)appearing2 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
with an animal in the name
but I suddenly remember my nine year old self, waiting outside
our old local
trying to do handstands against the brick wall to pass time.
The mini-me phantom fiercely practices until pieces of gravel embed themselves into her burning palms
and she cries silently whilst watching a bleary man smoke an orange blur silhouetted against the darkening sky.
‘I’m fine’ I smile, an adult again, trying to scrunch my eyes a little
(apparently a real smile always reaches the eyes).
I do a lot of nodding and laughing,
and I think most of it is appropriate.
Then I drift towards the toilets whilst excusing myself to no-one in particular.
In the solitude of the bathroom I stare into the mirror and notice the greyish freckles peering through my thick make-up, like ghosts.
The mirror is surrounded by panes of frosted glass
from which I wildly avert my gaze
because looking into them feels like being f
minestroneYou always wanted to organise and categorise everything. Separate it into clearly definable substances that you could understand.minestrone1 day ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I remember when I made us minestrone soup and you ate all the soup first, pushing your spoon against the pieces of pasta to keep them down, and filtering red tomato juice into your mouth. I couldn’t believe how clean the pieces of pasta left in your bowl were. They were like little white bones, with barely a trace of blood on them. You picked them up thoughtfully between your thumb and forefinger and ate them one by one.
I know you wanted to do that to me too. Dissect me, suck the blood from my bones and eat them plain.
You’re this kind of girl. You’re that type of girl
I won’t forget how you looked at me when you saw me eating ice cream from the tub and dancing around to Regina Spektor lyrics in my underwear. How you shouted at me that day I went skinny dipping with the girls
‘’oh so you’re miss confident all of a s
my summery of a Loki Cinderella story! Loki x readermy summery of a Loki Cinderella story! 2 days ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I've been Loki's slave, ever since i was a little girl. i polished his armor, held his heavy staff, brought him his food, and stayed by his side if he needed me for anything. One night, the palace was celebrating Thor's victory... But Loki forbid i go. Everyone else was going, except me. So i...well...i sneaked out and went. i kinda bumped into Thor and he and i immediately liked each other. we laughed and talked, which he didn't even know i was even a slave to his own palace. But before i could even say my name to him... i saw Loki come strolling in. even though i was wearing a disguise... which was a fancy dress, and a nice hairstyle, i ran out, leaving Thor. The very next day, Loki got a message saying Thor was trying to find his... Mystery girl. i couldn't let Loki find out it was me, but when i read the message myself, i went love struck. Loki read my mind...literally, and locked me in my room. i was absolutely heart broken.
concept of beauty1concept of beauty1 day ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Sometimes I like to call help lines and talk
Only because I relish the thought that people
Can hear my troubles and bundle them
Together into something beautiful. Like a
Girl who is so sad that her eyes shine a lot.
My name can be anything, something like Faye,
ethereal, like spinning around in ivory chiffon.
Will they guess something true, or will they see someone who has milky-tea hair
And wears ribbons and bruises, and bites her lip into spikes.
Will they make something quirky
out of my tragic little vomit of memories
That may as well be plastered around my heart
thick and cold. Will they think I am beautifully sad looking
I hope they can’t create an image at all.
Not a proper one. But one like mist, so prettily intangible.
Why do I always try to remember you and describe you in my head?
The sound of your voice like plumped up pillows.
I liked your dimples. I liked your hair. I want to write a sonnet about your limousine eyelashes and your teeth that overlapped