by Naomi L. | November 22, 2013 | Flash Fiction, J.C. Wolfe's Writing |
(What If? Exercise: Read the description here.)
I was a fool to think we could slay it.
She trusted me with her life, and I failed.
I was so sure we had it cornered.
I heard the growling before she did.
But she saw the teeth first.
I tried to save her.
It was too fast.
I blacked out.
She vanished.
Forever.
This piece is based on What If? Exercise 93: “Ten to One”. The exercise is to write a 55-word story in which the first sentence has ten words, the second has nine, etc., until the last sentence has only one word. The objective is to show that precision and thrift in writing can produce surprisingly powerful results. I hope you enjoy what I’ve written. Thanks for reading!
Back to the story
by Naomi L. | November 15, 2013 | J.C. Wolfe's Writing, Poetry |
An intelligent person knows how to carry on a conversation with other intelligent people.
A smart person knows how to carry on a conversation with anyone.
An intelligent person knows when it’s OK to be completely honest.
A smart person knows when to be honest, and when it is absolutely necessary to lie.
An intelligent person can tell the exact moment when everything went wrong.
A smart person can tell the exact moment when everything will go wrong, and figure out how to prevent it from ever happening.
An intelligent person doesn’t need to be asked twice to do a favor.
A smart person doesn’t need to be asked once.
An intelligent person knows how to make a valid point to any idiot.
A smart person knows that to try to make a valid point to an idiot is a waste of time.
I am an intelligent person.
But often I wish I were smart.
by Naomi L. | November 8, 2013 | J.C. Wolfe's Writing, Poetry |
If I had wings, I’d fly away,
Up to the sky, so bright and clear.
If I had wings, I’d leave today
To travel far away from here.
I’d spread my wings and I’d take flight.
I’d flap and flap with all my might,
So maybe I could finally see
The joy birds know of being free.
I’d feel the wind against my face
While flying o’er the endless sea.
Within the sunlight’s warm embrace,
A carefree soul at last I’d be.
As freedom calls me evermore,
My heart cries out for me to soar.
Beyond the mountains, past the sea,
Nothing but blissful peace for me.
But as far as a bird is willing to fly,
It always comes home, and so would I.
by Naomi L. | November 1, 2013 | Flash Fiction, J.C. Wolfe's Writing |
I could have sworn it was a bird.
When something big and black crashes hard enough into my window to shatter it, the first thing I think is it must be a bird.
But those leathery, featherless, bloodstained wings are not bird wings.
No, most of the birds around here know the tint of my windows, but blinded by the sun, that poor bat never saw the glass coming.
Based on a Halloween prompt from Writer’s Carnival: Things that Go Bump in the Day.
In no more than 4 sentences or 12 lines of poetry, write about a frightening occurrence which happens while the sun is still shining. What kind of terrors lurk in broad daylight?
Hope you enjoy what I’ve written! Thanks for reading, and Happy Halloween!
by Naomi L. | October 25, 2013 | Flash Fiction, J.C. Wolfe's Writing |
I’m sitting here, trying to think of something to write, a great idea for a story…
But this bird keeps staring at me through the window.
Seriously, a bird is staring through the window of my study, looking right at me.
What does it want? I don’t look like a bird, or anything that would be friendly to a bird. I don’t have any food on me; I never once gave it something to eat. We have a cat in the house who prowls around upstairs, so it shouldn’t be there in the first place.
Yet there it is, perched on the railing, staring at me with its beady little eyes, like I’m supposed to do something.
But what? Stare back at it? That’d be something odd, a staring contest with a bird. I know who’d win that. Hint: not me.
Am I supposed to stand up? Wouldn’t it fly away? What’s the point? It’s not doing anything, just staring.
And it’s very distracting.
Stop it! What do you want from me? Go away! I’m trying to work.
I mean it! Why are you looking at me like that?! Leave me alone!
The cat will get you if you stay there. Seriously, you’d better leave. Now.
OK, that’s it! Here I come…
Oh, look at that… It’s flying away.
Great, now I can get back to writing.
…
…
“The Bird on the Balcony”…
by Naomi L. | October 18, 2013 | J.C. Wolfe's Writing, Poetry |
They say I’m different.
They say I’m unusual.
They say that I’m beautiful,
That I’m intelligent,
That I’m talented.
But they think I’m unhappy.
They look at me and wonder,
“Why doesn’t she smile?
Why doesn’t she laugh?
Why doesn’t she talk?”
They don’t know me.
I am smiling.
I do laugh.
And I have no need to talk.
Why should I bother?
No one really listens to me anyway,
At least, not here.
But I’m not here.
I’m far away,
Drifting in my own thoughts,
In my own world,
Where no one can catch me
Or pin me down.
They go about their own boring lives.
They follow the same routine every day.
Not me.
That life is not mine.
I never had it,
And I never want it.
My days shall be free
Of dreadful, boring routine
For as long as I live.
I am smiling.
I do laugh.
And I don’t bother talking.
They don’t know me.
They don’t hear me.
They don’t see me.
And I don’t care.
Because I’m free.
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