Waterfall
A drop water of you were if
what you do would?
Cliff the to cling?
Go let?
The waterfall enjoy?
For some unknown reason these words were following me one day and I played with them and tumbled them and imagined them like the drops of water...
I don"t know maybe you"ll find it inspiring...
Inspiration , like water is unstoppable...
Saturday, December 18, 2010
Monday, May 24, 2010
The Passage and a Meeting
story by Rosa Anna Nastro in which we learn more about Madame Butterfly...
(For the previous section, see: this post.
It lasted just a second. After jumping into the pond, Cahetel felt like he was fluctuating in an indefinite space, dragged by a force like fog dispersed by a strong wind through a valley. His body had no weight, his mind was completely free. Suddenly, his body was painful and heavy again, the air flowed through his lungs. He was reborned. When he opened his eyes, he saw a pale light surrounding him. This light passed from yellow, to orange and, finally to red. At last, a dazzling blue lightning, then the darkness. After few seconds, Cahetel’s eyes adapted to the dark atmosphere and he realized he was in a round room made by a dark stone. There were just two windows, high in the wall. A pale light enlightened part of the wall and of the floor, where he was seated. He explored the floor itself by his hands and he realized he was in a circle, with some water flowing through it. But, after few minutes the water disappeared, revealing the opalescent stones that formed the circle itself. He looked at the room intently, and even if it was night, he was almost sure it was empty with the exception of some mirrors hanging from the walls. Even the high ceiling seemed brilliant, but he wasn’t able to recognize the nature of the matter it was made by. Paying more attention, he noticed the mirrors were able to reflect the light entering through the windows, giving some kind of lightening to the room. Like a dream, the pale light of a candle appeared at the side of a beautiful mirror, whose frame was accurately carved. Then, Cahetel realized he wasn’t alone in the room. A woman was seated in front of the mirror, brushing her long hair with grace and care. The candle floating in the air. “Finally a pilgrim from Nowhere” said a voice, calmly. The young man noticed the image reflected by the mirror: it was a charming woman, with an indefinable age. “Lately, some fleeting ghosts came from the same place. I let them pass, but they annoy me now…”. She stopped brushing, looking at the pilgrim through the mirror. His eyes were deep, dark with a light inside, a sort of flame. “Dear Madame, my name is Cahetel. The Red Spirits sent me to the Fifth Colony” he said standing up and making a bow. She stood up. “Very interesting. So, they opened the passage. You must be very important”. When she started moving, the young man noticed her face changing appearance: in a moment she was young, but suddenly she looked like an old woman. Moreover, when she started walking it seemed she had two different images, following and, at the same time, overlapping each other. Cahetel wasn’t able to move or to speak. “Give me your hand, so I can see who you are…”. When she saw the circle in the palm of his hands, she looked with her penetrating, mysterious gaze into his eyes.”I can’t stop you, Blue Pilgrim”. Then, Cahetel felt like a heavy force had released him. He breathed deeply. “Do you have any message from Him?”she said while turning back and going to sit at the mirror. “No, Milady” he answered without knowing the reason. “Oh! I’ll wait for Him. I know. He’ll come back”. So, she started brushing her hair again. Calmly. With
grace. In that moment a pale blue light spread from the surface of the ceiling to the mirrors. Madame Butterfly set him free… A disk of blue light extended till the circle on the floor, wrapping the voyager who felt his body dissolving like fog. Again.
The strange tall man took Laura’s hand. The little girl looked at him puzzled. “Who are you? What is your name?”. He smiled “I’ll tell you when you’ll be older”. The man opened her hand and, rapidly, placed something in it. A short lightning spread from her closed fingers but, when she opened them, there was nothing. A wind moved her long, black hair. The man smiled again. “We will meet again, when you are ready Laura”. The girl was completely confused, but at the same time, she felt comfortable. She knew he wouldn’t hurt her. He pointed to something behind the girl. A bird was waiting on a roof. She turned on her side and when she looked again to him, he wasn’t there. He had disappeared.
(For the previous section, see: this post.
It lasted just a second. After jumping into the pond, Cahetel felt like he was fluctuating in an indefinite space, dragged by a force like fog dispersed by a strong wind through a valley. His body had no weight, his mind was completely free. Suddenly, his body was painful and heavy again, the air flowed through his lungs. He was reborned. When he opened his eyes, he saw a pale light surrounding him. This light passed from yellow, to orange and, finally to red. At last, a dazzling blue lightning, then the darkness. After few seconds, Cahetel’s eyes adapted to the dark atmosphere and he realized he was in a round room made by a dark stone. There were just two windows, high in the wall. A pale light enlightened part of the wall and of the floor, where he was seated. He explored the floor itself by his hands and he realized he was in a circle, with some water flowing through it. But, after few minutes the water disappeared, revealing the opalescent stones that formed the circle itself. He looked at the room intently, and even if it was night, he was almost sure it was empty with the exception of some mirrors hanging from the walls. Even the high ceiling seemed brilliant, but he wasn’t able to recognize the nature of the matter it was made by. Paying more attention, he noticed the mirrors were able to reflect the light entering through the windows, giving some kind of lightening to the room. Like a dream, the pale light of a candle appeared at the side of a beautiful mirror, whose frame was accurately carved. Then, Cahetel realized he wasn’t alone in the room. A woman was seated in front of the mirror, brushing her long hair with grace and care. The candle floating in the air. “Finally a pilgrim from Nowhere” said a voice, calmly. The young man noticed the image reflected by the mirror: it was a charming woman, with an indefinable age. “Lately, some fleeting ghosts came from the same place. I let them pass, but they annoy me now…”. She stopped brushing, looking at the pilgrim through the mirror. His eyes were deep, dark with a light inside, a sort of flame. “Dear Madame, my name is Cahetel. The Red Spirits sent me to the Fifth Colony” he said standing up and making a bow. She stood up. “Very interesting. So, they opened the passage. You must be very important”. When she started moving, the young man noticed her face changing appearance: in a moment she was young, but suddenly she looked like an old woman. Moreover, when she started walking it seemed she had two different images, following and, at the same time, overlapping each other. Cahetel wasn’t able to move or to speak. “Give me your hand, so I can see who you are…”. When she saw the circle in the palm of his hands, she looked with her penetrating, mysterious gaze into his eyes.”I can’t stop you, Blue Pilgrim”. Then, Cahetel felt like a heavy force had released him. He breathed deeply. “Do you have any message from Him?”she said while turning back and going to sit at the mirror. “No, Milady” he answered without knowing the reason. “Oh! I’ll wait for Him. I know. He’ll come back”. So, she started brushing her hair again. Calmly. With
grace. In that moment a pale blue light spread from the surface of the ceiling to the mirrors. Madame Butterfly set him free… A disk of blue light extended till the circle on the floor, wrapping the voyager who felt his body dissolving like fog. Again.
The strange tall man took Laura’s hand. The little girl looked at him puzzled. “Who are you? What is your name?”. He smiled “I’ll tell you when you’ll be older”. The man opened her hand and, rapidly, placed something in it. A short lightning spread from her closed fingers but, when she opened them, there was nothing. A wind moved her long, black hair. The man smiled again. “We will meet again, when you are ready Laura”. The girl was completely confused, but at the same time, she felt comfortable. She knew he wouldn’t hurt her. He pointed to something behind the girl. A bird was waiting on a roof. She turned on her side and when she looked again to him, he wasn’t there. He had disappeared.
Friday, April 30, 2010
Rose The One, Happy Birthday Rosa
It is so nice to have another day for celebration:)
Have a wonderful Birthday dear Rosa,
Thank you for sharing with us your creativity and Inspiration:)
Lots of hugs and kisses
Monday, April 26, 2010
Happy Birthday Zoe!
Color of Mind
"I have dreamed in my life, dreams that have stayed with me ever after, and changed my ideas; they have gone through and through me, like wine through water, and altered the color of my mind."
Emily Brontë
"I have dreamed in my life, dreams that have stayed with me ever after, and changed my ideas; they have gone through and through me, like wine through water, and altered the color of my mind."
Emily Brontë
Created for Zoe...additional artwork (inserted card) by Aaron Goland.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
The Sandcastle...Let's play
The Sandcastle, it never lasts long.
To build it: is it right or is it wrong?
Nobody ever lives in it.
Why does anybody even bother making it?
The first rain or tide will wash the walls away.
Will children even remember their play?
The splenid Sandcastle will become again
nothing more then a sand, dull and plain.
But what can we ask for more?
We live for new ideas to explore.
Time is not only measured by sand,
We measure it any way we can comprehend.
Vesna
13/04/2010
Please feel free to add to the post...
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
The Best Thing In The World
The Best Thing In The World
"What's the best thing in the world?
June-rose, by May-dew impearled;
Sweet south-wind, that means no rain;
Truth, not cruel to a friend;
Pleasure, not in haste to end;
Beauty, not self-decked and curled
Till its pride is over-plain;
Light, that never makes you wink;
Memory, that gives no pain;
Love, when, so, you're loved again.
What's the best thing in the world?
—Something out of it, I think."
- Elizabeth Barrett Browning
June-rose, by May-dew impearled;
Sweet south-wind, that means no rain;
Truth, not cruel to a friend;
Pleasure, not in haste to end;
Beauty, not self-decked and curled
Till its pride is over-plain;
Light, that never makes you wink;
Memory, that gives no pain;
Love, when, so, you're loved again.
What's the best thing in the world?
—Something out of it, I think."
- Elizabeth Barrett Browning
| Happy Birthday Vesna! |
Sunday, April 11, 2010
An Ignorant Witch and A Tall Scared Man
I HAD to run. His shadow covered mine. The Moon became his partner and Moon followed me too.
Then she appeared. She looked up and I realized I AM a tall man.
“Can you help me little witch?” I asked, “I am a monster, a man afraid of himself”.
She couldn’t be less interested. “There is full World of those”, she said and flew away on her broom towards the full Moon.
Friday, April 9, 2010
Revenge
“I have never seen something like this”
John stares the long white bared body on the red floor, unable to move.
“And he is not dead, that’s what the doctor says, he is not dead”.
“No he is not. His heart is still beating slowly but steady, the drug is keeping the body alive in the throes of death”.
He looks around… the shoes on a puddle of blood, a table, two cups, the knife, the wooden rosary and the cassock, …
“John, come here! Look at this!” In one of the shoes he finds a syringe, on a written paper:
“Suffer the long dying, as you made me suffer last two years, father – Emma”
-Migue
(For Prompt 2).
John stares the long white bared body on the red floor, unable to move.
“And he is not dead, that’s what the doctor says, he is not dead”.
“No he is not. His heart is still beating slowly but steady, the drug is keeping the body alive in the throes of death”.
He looks around… the shoes on a puddle of blood, a table, two cups, the knife, the wooden rosary and the cassock, …
“John, come here! Look at this!” In one of the shoes he finds a syringe, on a written paper:
“Suffer the long dying, as you made me suffer last two years, father – Emma”
-Migue
(For Prompt 2).
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
The Incarnated Fear of Forgetting - Prompt #2
photography by Diane Powers
Victor was an ill mannered man of staggering genius. A lean shadowy giant with long wiry fingers dressed in elegant rags. He lived in a dark neglected manor, avoiding all. Shoes creaked the floor boards as he walked the halls. Remnants of a painful beautiful past. Doll creations from a conveyor belt that he fashion from the steel of an abandoned factory. No matter what her face forever appearing in the porcelain.
Monday, April 5, 2010
A Gift
Twenty years passed since she met a tall, shadowy man for the first time. His name was ancient almost like the Universe itself. Laura was playing with a ball in the courtyard when he appeared. The man approached to her:”Fasten the laces of your pretty shoes or you'll fall down, Laura”. Something shining appeared in his hand. “This is a gift for you. Take care of it”. That was the beginning.
--Rosa
(for the March 20/April 12 prompt.
Sunday, March 21, 2010
ONE MORE THING
No more supernatural talk, Toots, you never knew what hit you.
More than the weight, it was its bottom edge that killed her.
More than the bucket, my anger. Yoho and a bucket of zen.
She, elegant yet limp in her robe, dragon flame from the mouth of death.
Confess, reader: you made me do it.
--by eric
More than the weight, it was its bottom edge that killed her.
More than the bucket, my anger. Yoho and a bucket of zen.
She, elegant yet limp in her robe, dragon flame from the mouth of death.
Confess, reader: you made me do it.
--by eric
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Prompt: Deadline April 12
Given the character of a tall and shadowy man, write a story in the genre magical realism, using the subject shoes and the theme man versus the supernatural.
Word limit: 72
Time Limit: 13 days
*Don't forget about Madame Butterfly!
Word limit: 72
Time Limit: 13 days
*Don't forget about Madame Butterfly!
Friday, March 12, 2010
The Bucket
She passed by him in the hall. Her handbag flailing confidently at her side. What made him think of her as a little girl, arms flailing her bucket on the beach? "Unaware," he thinks to himself, like the innocent child in the sand. How can she possibly know her fate? That he would be her death.
Photography by, Diane Powers.
Detective Maddie
I was nervously running to the crime scene.
It was my first detective assignment.
She was passing by, serene,
carrying a bucket.
I thought:
"She is too pretty for a cleaning lady".
I feared:
"You are too stupid for a detective, Maddie".
My confidence won.
Elegantly dressed Dragon Butterfly
Will be in the jail for long.
It was my first detective assignment.
She was passing by, serene,
carrying a bucket.
I thought:
"She is too pretty for a cleaning lady".
I feared:
"You are too stupid for a detective, Maddie".
My confidence won.
Elegantly dressed Dragon Butterfly
Will be in the jail for long.
The Last Case
Here is zoe's offering for the March 9th microfiction prompt:
The end was there in the beginning, in that accidental glimpse of a green shimmer peeking out from what she was calling a neckline. The green shimmer held me so I never saw what hit me. And then the old man with the gold-filled bucket was painting someone else’s name on my door.
--zoe
"The Last Stand"
by Patrick Richardson
The end was there in the beginning, in that accidental glimpse of a green shimmer peeking out from what she was calling a neckline. The green shimmer held me so I never saw what hit me. And then the old man with the gold-filled bucket was painting someone else’s name on my door.
--zoe
"The Last Stand"
by Patrick Richardson
The Mystery
Here is Rosa's hard-boiled story in response to the microfiction prompt....
She felt His presence before seeing Him. The red-bright eyes of the Evil were pointed on the black gowned young lady. The waiter poured some champagne from an iced bucket into two glasses. “I feel, he is here”. Firstly,the lights lowered, the detective shivered. In the darkness, a scream. ”This is the end”. Silence.
-Rosa
She felt His presence before seeing Him. The red-bright eyes of the Evil were pointed on the black gowned young lady. The waiter poured some champagne from an iced bucket into two glasses. “I feel, he is here”. Firstly,the lights lowered, the detective shivered. In the darkness, a scream. ”This is the end”. Silence.
-Rosa
Thursday, March 11, 2010
56 ladies boiling in a bucket
--Migue's 56-word noir tale, in response to March 9th's prompt:
“56 ladies boiling in a bucket”
The detective takes a glance to the bucket and back to him.
“ What do you mean?”
“Stupid”- he sniggers.
…
“Why 56 ladies… in a bucket?” - she notices the doctor’s looking at her legs.
“When he came here” – he looks up again - “he brought that bucket with 54 rings inside.”
“And?”
“A nurse was killed two days later.”
--Migue
“56 ladies boiling in a bucket”
The detective takes a glance to the bucket and back to him.
“ What do you mean?”
“Stupid”- he sniggers.
…
“Why 56 ladies… in a bucket?” - she notices the doctor’s looking at her legs.
“When he came here” – he looks up again - “he brought that bucket with 54 rings inside.”
“And?”
“A nurse was killed two days later.”
--Migue
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Glowing Review, and a Prompt
I think that was the best sentence yet!
So, we have created the character of Madame Butterfly:
Madame Butterfly, a disturbingly womanly dragon, seemed mystified by sudden changes and fleeting ghosts from Nowhere. Her Nowhere was communicating telepathically with a primal Entity deep within metaphysical meaning, wordless. Then little distortions started interfering with the flow, and thus sad feelings overwhelmed Madame's soul. Bright orbs showed visions emerging from mirrors surrounding her ever more.
(PLEASE CONTINUE to explore the life of Madame Butterfly in the comments section!)
PART II:
I am curious, given the limit of 56 words, which is how many we used to create her character, if we could make an entire story, a microfiction piece. If you've read Migue's latest post, you can see where several writers created entire stories in 6 words, so it should be possible! This time, each person is responsible for his/her own entire 56 words. I am giving a prompt below. POST YOUR STORY wherever you like, but also post it here in Continuum! If you do not have access to create posts, hit the "contact me" button to the right, and we will fix the situation.
Have fun!
**Given the character of an elegantly-gowned young lady, write a story in the hard-boiled detective genre, using the subject a bucket and the theme man versus the supernatural.
Word limit: 56
Time limit: 2 weeks (deadline is March 23).**
I got this microfiction prompt template from:
http://www.wgz.org/chromatic/projects/microfiction/
So, we have created the character of Madame Butterfly:
Madame Butterfly, a disturbingly womanly dragon, seemed mystified by sudden changes and fleeting ghosts from Nowhere. Her Nowhere was communicating telepathically with a primal Entity deep within metaphysical meaning, wordless. Then little distortions started interfering with the flow, and thus sad feelings overwhelmed Madame's soul. Bright orbs showed visions emerging from mirrors surrounding her ever more.
(PLEASE CONTINUE to explore the life of Madame Butterfly in the comments section!)
PART II:
I am curious, given the limit of 56 words, which is how many we used to create her character, if we could make an entire story, a microfiction piece. If you've read Migue's latest post, you can see where several writers created entire stories in 6 words, so it should be possible! This time, each person is responsible for his/her own entire 56 words. I am giving a prompt below. POST YOUR STORY wherever you like, but also post it here in Continuum! If you do not have access to create posts, hit the "contact me" button to the right, and we will fix the situation.
Have fun!
**Given the character of an elegantly-gowned young lady, write a story in the hard-boiled detective genre, using the subject a bucket and the theme man versus the supernatural.
Word limit: 56
Time limit: 2 weeks (deadline is March 23).**
I got this microfiction prompt template from:
http://www.wgz.org/chromatic/projects/microfiction/
Monday, March 1, 2010
Save Madame Butterfly!
photograph by, Sarah Moon
Madame Butterfly, a disturbingly womanly dragon, seemed mystified by sudden changes and fleeting ghosts from Nowhere. Her Nowhere was communicating telepathically with a primal Entity deep within metaphysical meaning, wordless. Then little distortions started interfering with the flow, and thus sad feelings overwhelmed Madame's soul.
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