Damned Words 13
Every day, like a moth to a flame, I revisit this spot, eager to see it again. Leaning back against the tree, I gaze out onto the horizon. My eyes scan left to right, right to left. It was here, on this small protrusion of land, I saw it hovering silently, deliberately above the Atlantic water. Mechanical, organic, frightening and alluring all rolled into one. For hours I watched with morbid fascination until it finally disappeared into the sky. Since then, my dreams, every waking moment, have been obsessing over it. So here I sit, waiting, hoping, for its return.
Burn To Your Core
Joseph A. Pinto
And still I survive here; and I am charred; and I am lifeless without ever having died. You surround me with portrait skies my limbs can never touch; only the water to nourish me, delivered by beak of bird and sob of storm. Yes, you planted me in barren ground, but I chose to take root. Strove to blossom. More than ever, I realize I cannot. How deathly I must appear against the backdrop you manufactured, an obstruction to all you’d thought perfected. An eyesore so startling I am beauty in my own right; it must burn to your core.
* * * *
Above, I have placed two of the short stories in Damned Words 13, this week's Scary Saturday Tale. All the stories are based on the picture prompt by Nina D'Arcangela shown at the top of this post. The other seven stories are waiting for you at http://penofthedamned.com/2015/07/28/damned-words-13/. Check out these and a lot more free stories at our Pen Of The Damned website. You'll be glad you did.