Photo from Viking Lander, NASA
(It’s) Me not just anyone
to be real
in a world where-
The existential bleak of suburban wastelands
Float on the bubble of
Can barely afford
Until pop, and we’re left with-
Ball bounces on pavement,
Winds howl across deserts.
A shadow sweeps by. Vultures hunt.
Piercing sunlight winks.
Trying to be real,
In a world where
That’s not how we do things
PHOTO PROMPT – © Jennifer Pendergast
This is my post for Friday Fictioneers and the A-Z Challenge, a hundred word story in response to the prompt and my entry for the letter I. For more stories click the frog and for more fun “I” stuff, check out the challenge!
Funny the things we tell ourselves.
I’m better off without you.
Couples with children noisily talk, laugh, play, while I turn the page in the latest epic adventure tale of the moment.
Maybe I’m not really an island. Maybe I’m a causeway gurgling beneath the surf. Maybe I’m the chain between two box-cars, shattered, destroyed, and useless without you.
Then again, maybe I like my freedom, the open sky, no arguments, no promises to “never again,” no cops called by concerned neighbors. Maybe I am an island glistening amidst living waters, trundling peacefully along the track of my new life.
Rebounding against rock walls
Like a prophecy
Of someone I have not met
Is anyone there?
Here I am.