Chess…
“Loving him was like playing chess with grandpa when I was a child, she thought. I could never outguess his next move, but he always made me feel like I had chances to win…”
Category: Fiction
Micro-poésie du vendredi…
Dans l’oeil du dragon, Elle serre dans son poing une promesse d’amours éternelles. Ivre d’un songe, Où il la lui souffle, les yeux fermés, directement sur les lèvres…
Thrice…
Walking in the middle of the familiar supermarket crowd, just like any other Thursday night. But he had gotten an unusual feeling the moment he had set foot in the store… Everything was the same, yet, everything seemed slightly different. And he couldn’t put his finger on what made him urge to be on…… Continue reading Thrice…
Roll of dice…
A bad twist of the wrist, One of fate’s many failures, In some God’s cruel games and tortures Sweet wonders will never suffice… To heal the heart that knows better.
Fading memory…
If someday my memory just dries away, read me your best story every night… Over and over and over again. Every evening, after every sunset, tell me those same words, and bring me with you down the same road. Tell me about the same stars, and the same sighs, and the same dreams… Don’t…… Continue reading Fading memory…
Micro-poésie du vendredi…
Avec la patience de la lionne qui attend sans hâte son dû Je lécherai la luxure sur ta peau de chasseur Languissant de te voir enfin exposer ton coeur et j’y plongerai les dents, comme dans le fruit défendu *** Inspired by the work of Sarah Doughty, Hunger
Autumn’s avowals…
I wrote you a thousand times, he told her by the stone hearth. The flames reflected in her eyes, matching her red mane. The warm tones of the fire colored the whole room, covering the discreet blushing of her cheeks. I don’t have the eye of a painter, I don’t have the hand of…… Continue reading Autumn’s avowals…
Invoking the elements…
Alone with her thoughts, she bent down to sit on the ground… She murmured her prayer to the earth, caressing it from the tip of her fingers, with no obvious response… She then walked towards the fire, and danced with the flames. Twirling close enough to feel the heat, but her words burned in…… Continue reading Invoking the elements…
Micro-poésie du vendredi…
Elle espérait le retour de la chaleur, ou était-ce de son homme? L’espace, déjà trop court, de quelques timides matins. Répis, le temps d’accepter l’incontournable arrivée de l’automne Après les derniers soupirs langoureux de l’Été Indien…
Micro-poésie du vendredi…
Elle gardait le livre de sa vie, jalousement sur sa table de chevet. Feuilletant chaque soir un chapitre, Pour se tricoter le rêve d’un amour parfait….
Cyranny's Cove 