fff#37

pushing the bounds of my griot, testing how poetic and how mystic he like to get, how much he could embellish with pretty talk while still sounding like man. hadda see if he could run the whole show or if empress diablesse hadda take some of the storytelling...

today's trigger coming a little later; ran outta time, hadda run an errand in a timing and will post new trigger when i get back this afternoon...talk soon; walk good.

my attempt @flash fiction friday #37 (inclusion)trigger: pair, pare, pear, peer, pere, pier.
walking out to the end of the bridge to nowhere, i watch the moon, hanging big+low in the sky like she tryna come closer to me. i know is she calling. she’s do that sometimes. i’s not a man who’s stroll out on the ends of piers in the middle of the night jes so. yuh dig? i feel the call and i respond. we familiar like dat.
i get comfortable on the 2x4s, dig in meh shoulderblades, feeling the structure under me, even waggle meh bambam little bit, feel like a lion stretching, enough that i actually stretch a little. whole time she watching. i stretch a little longer than i would in my bed, jes for she.
i settle, so fixated above i only realise i not alone when the shadow cross meh face. i come up on elbows slow, and wait- ah mean, who’s run up on a man lying down on the edge of a pier alone in the middle of the night, hoss?
“pere anansi say come…”
and with that, she stretch sideways and plunge into the sea jes so, splashless. ah tellin’ yuh, barely a ripple, no splash. silence again.
i sit up, looking for the fluffy ‘fro to crest the surface but when the ripple disappear, she doh reappear. i bounce up outta my haze, flip over and hang off the edge to look under the planks. nutting. i scramble back, lie flat on meh stomach and peer between the 2x4s. still nutting. she jes gone, like she never appear with her message from pere anansi.
i try to settle again, to recapture the vibes from before the visitation. make meh way back to the edge, lie down again face to face with the luminous lady but fluffy ‘fro voice stick deep in meh ears, smooth+creamy like the perfect zaboca- which, lewwe admit, is the king of pears; them light fruity ting is for girls, ent? her voice rich+thick, ripeness pushing skin off, no need to pare once flesh exposed.
i feel the shadow across meh face again but sit up to nutting but sweet echoes in meh ears. and then moon remind me: pere anansi say come.
i hang meh legs over the edge this time, slippers next to me, feet reaching toward the echo of the ripple from the fluffy ‘fro, studying to follow, and then, behind me, “guess i not the only one hearing the call tonight.”
i turn, and when i drag meh gaze up from a finer pair of legs than i seen in a minute, is the fluffy ‘fro, in a shorts+vest instead of the white dress from before. and i know this time real.
i drink in the sight of her, and hold out my hand for her to join me...