Hearts

"If you're listening, if you're awake to the poignant beauty of the world, your heart breaks regularly. In fact, your heart is made to break; its purpose is to burst open again and again so that it can hold ever more wonders."


Quote found on Tumblr, Image found on Google.

Brew

She had spent countless hours over her gurgling cauldron. Her eyebrows had long ago burned off, her hair was a tangle of sweaty locks and burns were shiny crimson splotches across her arms. She labored diligently long into every night, determined not to quit; she was so close to making her breakthrough discovery. Yet every night turned out the same: she’d fall asleep in the midst of cutting up dried roots or pig’s tongue, the cauldron’s bubbling a soothing lullaby.

But then one day…

It was an accident, really. Who knew that a handful of peach rose petals, seven black swan feathers, a teaspoon of honey, a sprinkle of sugar, two fresh raspberries and a dash of cinnamon would be the secret to flying? (Provided, of course, that you stirred the mixture clockwise, counter clockwise, centre to the edge, then edge to the centre a total of 777 times while singing Amazing Grace.)

She just had to test her potion. Without a moment’s hesitation, she dashed to her ladder and climbed to the rooftop of her twenty story flat. She raised the goblet to her chapped lips and was instantly enveloped in the delightful, airy sweetness of her concoction as it danced down her throat.

With a deep breath, she leapt from the building. The clouds were a heavenly swirl around her as the cool breeze carried her through the ocean blue sky. It had worked: she was flying! She was a genius! She was going to be so famous!

Later, the Police Investigators submitted their report: suicide.


Image found through Google Images.

Sun and Rain

"Life is like a rainbow: you need both the sun and the rain to make its colors appear. The only way to see a rainbow is to look through the rain."
~Unknown~

All images found through Google Images.

Wings

Image Sent to Me by a Loved One

Vanish

'What did he say?'
“Something about a diagnosis.”
We focused on the Doctor leaning against the pasty white wall, light glowing ominously on his starched scrubs; he looked like an archangel perched over the Book of Life.
‘If he’s standing at the gleaming gate, I’m turning back.’
I laughed at that; the Doctor gave me a look before returning to his paperwork.
‘Don’t laugh; you look like you’re crazy.’
Scratching scribbling filled the room.
Mother rested an icy hand on my arm––– pat, pat, pat. Translation: “It’ll be alright. Don’t worry.”
Don’t worry, her catch phrase.
The Doctor began to rummage in a cabinet.
“He’s getting the medicine, the one he promised would––”
‘No! He can’t do that.’
‘Do what?’
‘Make us disappear.’
‘Don’t be silly; we can’t just vanish.’
The twisting of a faucet and water bouncing in a paper cup echoed through the room.
Pat, pat–– two taps. I glanced at mother, with her worried, sunken eyes. A plea to cooperate.
The Doctor approached, three pills in his latex gloved hand. I wanted to protest, but at mother’s pat, pat, I obediently opened my mouth. The pills slid down my throat.
‘Don’t worry, little pills can’t get rid of us.’
‘We’ll never.... leave.... don’t.... worry....’
Silence.
A spurt of panic rose in my chest. “Are you there?”
‘. . . .’
“Answer me!”
‘. . . .’
Tears poured down my cheeks. The silence was a deafening echo. “Gone. All gone. Gone...”
Drained. Empty.
One pat, a brief touch on my shoulder–– “I’m sorry.”

Written based on a challenge to create a story no more than 250 words long.
Image by: Saumya

Les Fleurs

The flower offered of itself

and eloquently spoke
of Gods
in languages of rainbows,
perfumes
and secret silence...
*~Phillip Pulfrey~*


Images found through Google Images