The Hail Mary Hissy Fit

 

Hail  Mary.jpg

Hail Mary.jpg (Photo credit: ToreaJade)

 

Sometimes you’ve got to vent, then pray it saves your head.

Let it go!

Let it rip!

Let it ride on black while you’re blue.

If it only stopped at red.

 

Instead, my unhinged roulette spins off course into a storm,

Down a ravine I didn’t see.

No time for a Hail Mary scream.

I hit rocky road bottom without the ice cream.

 

Where do I go when I’m down this low?

Not farther south to bellwether hell.

Sitting for an eternity in the afterlife breakroom,

Filling out the same form until my fingers bleed.

 

I ‘m not a big fan of fire or brimstone,

Of charred dreams roasting on a spit.

Don’t want to linger in God’s basement

Where the ambiance trends toward grim.

 

So, I search for sky and find it,

Get a grip on the craggy mountainside.

I look up, never down at dusty footprints left behind,

While I pace myself to avoid another slide.

 

I dig in, holding onto hope on a rope, without the bar of soap.

The beat of my feet a slow steady motion.

Don’t want to peak before the peak.

Energy lost from all the bitching, at the top, I will sleep.

 

One eye open,

One eye closed,

Looking forward, looking home.

Another day,

Another load of laundry,

Hampered by the memory of dirty clothes.

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Paradise Lost

 

One forkful then another, she slipped the succulent oozing chocolate past parting lips, licking them clean, as luscious dark decadence painted her tongue. More, she wanted more chunks of rich cathartic bliss to scoop then swallow, lifting, then plunging into a yearning mouth; her only focus, she was oblivious to everything else, including the potential hazard of too much wine combined with devil’s food cake.

Delicious savory bits slid down her throat, satisfying a need inside, unmatched by the lack of fulfillment capabilities of her throat. The chocolate coalesced in her esophagus, blocking the one escape route for her lungs; gasping, she reached for the glass on the table, swiping it, it toppled on its side. The wine spilled, as she clutched her throat, collapsing face first onto the plate of chocolate cake.

 

I’m participating in Lillie McFerrin’s weekly Five Sentence Fiction exercise. This week’s prompt – Paradise.

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Ethereal Whispers

 

Lauren flying through stars

A sound flutters around me in a distant sort of way, a voice as ethereal as a whisper, speaks my name, “Sherri, Sherri.”

Strange…I’m the only one here in the dwindling afternoon, waiting for darkness to swallow sunlight…“Sherri, Sherri.”

Through the haze, shadows with human faces drift through a dimly lit room; my mother stands before them, behind her a mahogany box lays dripping with flowers. She blots an eye with a tissue. “Sherri, we miss you;” her voice shudders as she speaks my name, “Sherri, Sherri.”

 

I’m participating in Lillie McFerrin’s Five Sentence Fiction prompt. This week’s prompt – Whisper.

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Empty Ester, An Accident in Progress

 

Empty Ester lost her head, once a prominent fixture on her shoulders, air lingers there instead. She blamed the loss on her stubborn boss who demanded too much of her vapid thoughts.

“Find me the ‘Nail’ file,” he had said to her. “It’s the one after “O” called ‘Oblivious.'”

She should have known not to ponder the contents of “Oblivious,” the mere thought of which, caused her head to explode.

English: Detonation of explosives.

English: Detonation of explosives. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

Double linking:

I’m participating in Lillie McFerrin’s weekly Five Sentence Fiction challenge. This week’s prompt – Empty.

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I’ve also linked up to Silly Sunday, hosted by Rhonda of Laugh-Quotes.
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