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Five Sentence Fiction: Breakfast

The morning’s brilliant sunshine belied the cool air, but the bumblebee, sluggish at breakfast on the spent seed head, foretold the change to come. The season had been awaiting the moment and the moment was here, and even as the day warmed and the bees efficiently bumbled on their way, grand and beautiful clouds appeared on the horizon, slowly, quietly parading across the sky, their size and numbers more dense each hour until by afternoon the blue overhead was hung with dreamy cotton and the voice of the wind whispered high in the treetops of what was to come. 212 more words

Photography

Sins for breakfast

The Sin-Eater ate the cake and honey on the dead man’s chest loudly; slopping, slurping, sacreligous. “You were lucky to have died when you did,” he chuckled, waving a filled fork at the corpse’s puffy face, “your wife’s cooking is truly sinful.” 172 more words

Writing

Breakfast of Champions

Five Sentence Fiction – Breakfast

Be forewarned, my dark twist is back today.


He slammed the refrigerator door closed, rifled through the pantry, then came into view, dipping his fingers into an open jar of… 90 more words

#amwriting

Cover-up - Five Sentence Fiction

They only see what they want to see; I don’t blame them really, it’s the way of the world, fast-paced, overwhelming, images of beauty everywhere – or at least what society tells us passes for beauty. 134 more words

Creative Writing

Scary Reflection!

The reflection looked me back,

With a different look from what I have seen!

The enigmatic feel stayed intact,

Yet, so different, I felt,

Like someone else took my place, 126 more words

Poem

Five Sentence Fiction - Lipstick

He was afraid not to look at her. He feared that if he dared to look away, or even blink, she would disappear.

He never once failed to give her the attention she wanted, and maybe that’s why she got bored—bored of the man who’d never surprise her; too devoted, too outdated, too predictable. 73 more words

Writing

Scaffolding

In the mirror she appears, layer-by-layer; I don her like armour.

Paints, greases, powders, and creams; a wall of fictions against cold appraisal, a shield of chemical lies against judgement. 169 more words

Writing