evermore's writings

This is non-Twilight fan fic writing here--just warning you.

This is a flash-fiction piece I did for a Creative Writing workshop. It is less than 2,000 words, which is the amount that qualifies a flash-fiction. Mine is 125. Count 'em.


She was wearing the cobalt dress she said she would wear for the two of them, but today she was wearing it for herself. She looked at the clock mounted on the kitchen wall. The rain ran its fingernails against the windowpane. He was smoking, clutching the cigarette in bone white fingers. It burned his throat with forbidden pleasure and he exhaled, smoke running from his lips, his lungs, his nose. A half finished wine bottle sat beside him. She finished packing her clothing. He raised the mouth of the wine bottle to his own and fingered a quiet tune on the piano. The clock tolled half past. She rose, talking her bags but leaving her key and wedding ring.


He stubbed out his cigarette.


***

Here is a poem I wrote for another workshop--

I can remember

everything

the air, the moon the way the stars etched themselves upon
your lips

I can remember
half finished secrets and promises and hopes and dreams
sometimes, I remember the sound of your voice

but most of the time it eludes me.

it was cold and our breath fogged the twilight
and the stars
you kept the moon hidden under your tongue
but I thought you swallowed it when the night went dark
and I couldn't see you
or me

but I saw the dove
trapped under gravestones like we once were
like I was before you gave me wings
[stiff and cold as baby bird feathers]
and taught me how to fly

we drew closer
wings like lacy spidersilk
like your hair, your eyes
like you

I can see
like you
it was not a dove

it was a pigeon

(NOTE: I wrote that in like, two minutes and am still revising it. Soooo...that's why it's kinda bad. )