Fiction From A Photo – She Has No Past, You Have No Future # 2

Photo by Oleg Magni on Pexels.com

A Catcher-upper – We find Alex standing over his best friend who he discovered once he realized during their foot race, had disappeared. He strolls back to check to see what happened. Here’s a link to the first post in this story series for continuity. Hope you enjoy!

SHE HAS NO PAST, YOU HAVE NO FUTURE # 2

By: Ash Douglas 

Alex began to walk slowly back in the direction he had just come from. As he did, he searched ahead scanning the area for his buddy who he could have swore was right behind him. He knew Marcus couldn’t have been playing around with him, he loved racing too much for that. He was extremely competitive and rarely loss at anything. It didn’t matter what they both faced off against. Still scouting for his friend, Alex passed the halfway rock, and as he did, he caught sight of what looked like Marcus’s foot poking out from a bunch of bushes. It seemed his friend might have actually bit the dirt. Had to be something like that. Whatever the reason, Alex was definitely going to have the last laugh now. Except, it was not going to be because he had finally won the race. There was that, but, there was also the fact that Marcus had to come all the way back to help his sorry ass. That’s another victory all of its own. There was a good chance he was hiding in those bushes up there trying to come up with an injury to fake in order to get the race declared a no contest. Realizing as much, Alex picked up his pace. He was not going to waste another second; he could not delay rubbing it in. Only, as he drew closer, he started to notice something didn’t look quite right. Marcus would have definitely begun with the excuses already. He would have sensed Alex by now. Crying “Do over”, or “Help, I tripped”, or his famous “I let you win that one”. Nothing. Instead, when Alex finally made it to his best friend, he was laying in the bushes faceup. He was barely moving. There was zero expression on his face. None at all. No look of pain, no look of shame, no crying, no laughter, no embarrassed excuse face. Nothing. He was completely blank. His eyes blackened, and his chest was moving up and down rapidly. He was taking in large deep breaths. One at a time, and releasing the air as if he were shushing someone for five seconds at a time.  

To be continued…

My Works of Heart

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There are times my heart speaks for me, this is the place I keep its voice.– Ash

Hey everybody,

I am just dropping in for a second. I have decided to tweak an already existing page on my blog. It’s for my poems. I’ve noticed from time to time that WordPress does some wonky stuff. While I was looking over mine the other day, I noticed some bugs like my pages cut off after a few “older posts” clicks. That affected my links and how much people could read. Damn you, WordPress! So, I went and created a page that links all of my poetry to one webpage and you can scroll all the way through them. One by one. There’s nothing worse than finding out people can’t see your stuff because of site issues.

Continue reading “My Works of Heart” →

Fiction From A Photo – She Has No Past, You Have No Future # 1

Photo by Oleg Magni on Pexels.com

Hey everybody,
I’m going to get straight to it. This category is something I have been playing around with for a while now. The premise is I will take a photo I’ve found somewhere and draw whatever inspiration I can from it and write a short, maybe long story from it. Plus, I would like to offer the same opportunity to anyone who wants to follow my lead and use both the photo and/or story title as a prompt. I would love to see examples of other forms of inspiration. It doesn’t have to be a story either. It could be anything from a story, a poem, a song, anything your heart desires.

OK, here’s the beginning of this one for me. I have a few chapters done of this prompt, only I was too excited and reacted. I went with the moment and posted. #amwriting

Don’t forget to tell me what you think in the comments, and let’s see where this goes.

Enjoy!!!

SHE HAS NO PAST, YOU HAVE NO FUTURE # 1

By: Ash Douglas 

Marcus, get up! Come on. It’s not funny.
We have to go.
Do you realize I needed to be home fifteen minutes ago? Not cool.
You know, I’m going to be in deep shit again.
My Uncle is going to kill me for sure this time. 
Marcus?

Continue reading “Fiction From A Photo – She Has No Past, You Have No Future # 1” →

Young Summer

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took a walk-in summer grass 
picked a blade, made a sound 
the air was country 
wild strawberries sweet 
like lazy cats we lay for hours 
In the filthy hot, in the no time afternoons 
sometimes on the highway to anywhere 
I had never been, now I was 
away from home, but home 
In a holiday dusk 
I remember watching mosquitos dance 
we hid in quiet as the sun went to sleep
while children ran through the tall trees 
like tiny beasts searching for their capture 
there was so much laughter inside my heart 
a new smile I learned to grow 
pure place full of running and joy 
town between the seconds 
I’ll be back again someday 

Journal Entry # 221 – Discovery Takes A Lifetime

The further I get to go outside, the further I get to go inside. – Ash

Journal Entry # 220 – Here’s A Foot Note

I went for a walk the other day along the beach. As I did, I happened to look down and notice my footprints in the sand. I realized something. Every day, I worry so much about the steps I need to take and less about the ones I’ve taken. Life is always about moving forward though we forget about how far we have come already. Each step a footprint in our own lives. Just a reminder to look at your life as a journey, not a race. – Ash

Lonely Poet

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my lines are barren of words
no one pays attention anymore 
I walk away to try and heal
change those emotional bandages
stop the bloody hurt
when my lyrics are finally gone so will I 
like a blank page…empty
death poetic is where these sonnets will live on
for stanzas from the grave bare the richest fruit
it’s then you see how poison being alive feels to a poet
when from lips when it can’t be
turning to the cover to remember from a photo
remember how abandoned I was with an audience
how forgotten I would become
unless I use creation to keep me alive
I’ll always be alone with my words
even if they are never again repeated
don’t repeat them for me

 
 

Am I Write # 11 – There’s Something Beautiful In Our Mist!

As a writer, I sometimes lose my direction. Everything becomes inside. When I start to feel that way, I go outside. I run straight into the arms of Mother Nature and she sets the scene for me. – Ash

Journal Entry # 219 – Being Present Is A Gift To Yourself

The more present you are in a moment, the more beautiful the gift of living that moment becomes. – Ash

Post Of Christmas Past # 4 – The Christmas Eve Night Walk Home

Photo by Simon Migaj on Pexels.com

Screw the cab, it’s nice out, and I’m walking. Ah, the Christmas Eve Night walk home. This memory is further to the first snowfall entry I posted a few days ago in terms of the atmosphere it creates. A single awesome holiday mini-tradition that we tend to forget about. You don’t realize how Christmassy it is until you’re there in the moment. If you ask me, there’s no better backdrop to a beautiful Christmas than ending it with a brisk cool clean air walk home. Alone, or with a special loved one. Either way, it creates a warm and fuzzy feeling inside. You’re Christmas so far has been nothing but food, drinks, music, friends, and your loving family. Annnnd, the best part. Well, the best part was Santa still had to swing by the old house to drop off the gifts. Score. Oh, and turkey tomorrow…oh my God, Mmmmm, nan’s turkey!!!

Yes, I remember those nights when I close my eyes. How the stars always had the right amount of glow to them. Enough to guide you home. I loved how the streets had just fallen snow that sparkled in the light and covered the whole road. The only imperfection was a single set of tire tracks that belonged to that one taxi that was still making passenger runs. I can still see those super big snowflakes as they fall sideways against the shine of the streetlight as I pass the last stretch toward home. By that time all I could think of was how comfy my bed was going to be. 

Those chilled-to-the-bone but warm-to-the-heart walks home are still very vivid in my memory. No matter if it’s twenty years ago or just last year, I love a good stroll on Christmas Eve Night. Because in the end, there’s snow place like home and I’m going to jingle all the way. 

Until…