fff#70

late, and thus not as tightly edited as i'd like, but not terrible, my flash fiction friday #70; starter trigger:
i/she/he/they never wanted to forget anything more in her life than the last 3minutes. she had an instantaneous headache and a revelatory understanding of the expression “ignorance is bliss” when she see it because of how deep she feel in that very moment that nothing could ever be the same again. she was shook.
she eh ask for this. she eh come out for this. she come out to make some mischief, yes, but not looking for this kinna trouble when she leave the house this darknight. she want to refuse the sight, to refuse the knowledge, but cyah unsee, cyah unknow, no matter how she try to retrieve the naive belief that she know anything at all out here.
when she sneak out the house, was just to meet up with the neighbour boy she stringing along since mid-secondary school as convenient filler between suitors. her recent discovery during a passing-the-time petting session that he happen to be hung like a real-life gros lolo bring a certain extra thrill to the sneaking out this time and she thought herself in for a night of wonder, but couldn’t know how wrong she was about what kind.
you think you know the world by the time you think you big. you know what is a skyscraper, a cat, the wind, a desert, a performance…love. you understand the universe and that you cannot know all of it or even of the world, but you know enough to think you know the world enough: the sun will rise in the morning; death+taxes. until you see the unfathomable…
when she sneak out the house was just to engage in a night of what the young+free do and have always done, whether they can under their own roofs or not; a lack of obvious location never stop the inevitable. she did what the young+free do and make her rendezvous but before she reach the remains of the abandoned, derelict house, as she was cresting the small slope up to the empty doorway, she and all her intentions fall to pieces.
she feel the heat as she was walking up but, of course she would feel a slight heat; she was walking up. the night was so full of frogs+crickets she eh notice the snap, crackle, pop-popping. her mind was so on the pleasures she imagined awaited, she eh study the strange light…
when she sneak out the house she swear the wonders she would bear witness to that darknight would be of the human penile persuasion. she wasn’t expecting to see a self-contained fireball hover above the ancient tree, the tree behind the old house long before the house was new, so much just a part of the rising landscape she didn’t even think of it when she thought of the ruins. she wasn’t expecting blazing light to so clearly illuminate the tree that she could see in the vee of branch and trunk what could only be an empty skin, coiled, waiting for its owner’s return, and in the gaps of crumbling, broken walls, the neighbour boy, already waiting for her, now looking up through open ceiling to open sky in shock+awe. she wasn’t expecting the universe to expose such secrets, but how could she go back to believing only in the ordinary when she see the imaginary manifest?
she stop walking, rooted by the horror of her reality shattered. as she try to refuse the vision of eyes too aghast to process frantic messages to close, the universe eliminate all room for denial. the fire flash right through where used to be roof and was at the neighbour boy side in a second. then it seem to hover right over him and she hear him cry out, sharp, and then it was gone, up+away, trailing eerie, scandalous laughter through the night.
not a eyelash on the neighbour boy even slightly singed, but the bruised bite-mark bloom immediately.
later, she reach him home with strict instructions to forget she was ever there or the night even happen, and only later still she realise, that sharp cry was the last sound she ever hear him make.

walk good.

flash fiction friday #70

flash fiction friday #70 trigger; starter: i/she/he/they never wanted to forget...

rules of engagement:
you will send in your suggestions for flash fiction friday triggers (starter sentences/phrases, closers, titles, inclusions, structural/thematic challenges, etc.) anytime during the week up to 11.09a.m. friday, trinbago time; i will post the new fff trigger by noon friday trinbago time.*
if your trigger is not chosen and you think it is too brilliant not to be chosen, you will send it in again the next week.
you will write an anecdote, short story, song or novel length prose poem using the trigger provided.
you will add comments and appropriate linkage to this/my trigger-post indicating your desire to participate and the completion of your piece (don't need a blogger/gmail account to comment here on my blog).
you may join in at any time prior to deadline.*
you will display your piece as a post on your own blog (or as a comment on this/my trigger-post or fasbook note or instastory or whaever, once we can all read it- please make sure we can all access the link to read it, not just those who are your friends on fasbook; there's a way to create public links for that, right?).
you will be done by monday noon trinbago time.*[in light of collective busyness and my general mentality, i not pressed about these deadlines 'cause i'd rather have fun reading late than never, so if you want to fff past deadline, go through hard, just make sure you comment on the appropriate trigger-post so we know which it belongs to, and if is a real old trigger, comment on the most recent post as well so we know something new to back-back+read...if nobody fffs i'll leave the same trigger up until at least 1person other than myself writes a piece]*
write fresh!
walk good.

shoulda knewn it couldn' last...

story of my blasted life. 2weeks after foolishly announcing here, i fucking happy, it falling apart around me. and is i do it, to my own damn self. probably starting with announcing it here; years now i saying, anytime i finally mention somebody here, they's promptly start fucking up and relationship crash+burn. so i's doh do that again. in theory. but when somebody make their way to a certain level of intimacy+involvement then maintain over time, i eventually get to a point where i feel confident enough that we good and our understanding deep and it feel weird to consciously avoid mentioning them so when it come up, i do, figuring they go be different because we so tight and, sure nuff, as fast as i drop the word, they drop the fucking ball. or rather, pelt it so far outta bounds they break connection...
and so said so done. and i let it happen, ent...i choose to, like a damn ass. and of course, it wasn' only that, i let tings happen in the las' 2weeks because letting somebody that close that they could fuck me up is its own little folie a deux that i's stupidly doh recognise until too late, but i cyah even unpack the hurt+rage right now...all i have is disappointment in myself for letting him lead me astray, again.
sufficeth to say i picking up what the universe putting down and will be laying low; focus on make/art/wuk.
stay tuned for news of water more than flour's bbcradio3 broadcast...
walk good.

fff#69

this is the 3rd installment of this current rounds of fff and my 3rd fff in a row written between 9am-noon monday, pelting toward deadline. before, i always tried to have something written or at least started before monday morning because i like time to finesse my flow; didn't always work out, but was a useful enough way to proceed...but i kinna liking this monday morning, start the week by fffing ting, and eh hating the results [thus far] neither...
without further ado, my attempt@ flash fiction friday #69; trigger [inclusions]: gorge, tingle, throb, bathe, trouble.

last thing i see was a grin of desire, fulfilled, filling my field of vision.
before that was all wonderment. sweat and gasping and moaning and juicy contorting…
before that was weeks upon weeks of hard work and not enough rest and promising myself this reward. i deserved something to look forward to, and after the work i put down, deserved to get it. all. i promised i would gorge myself on his big, beautiful…but that part didn’t happen.
before that could happen, before i could fully ready myself to receive this gift i had promised myself, as i finish bathe and before i could finish buttering my skin, he was at my door, and then at my ear the moment he was inside. as fast as i register the tingle of his words against my neck and the throb as they register between my legs his hands and mouth were on me, all over me, all at once. all my plans flew out of my head with every last thought i ever thought and i could only feel. amazing. the only thought left after he touched me, once he was inside me was, this man is trouble…
and that was the last and only coherent thought until the shock and incredible pain as earring, nosering and dreadlocks came together, connected, entangled, didn’t let go as his tongue withdrew…incredible, alarming pain…and then nothing…

walk good.

flash fiction friday #69

#69 on a good friday feel like a good omen, heheheh...
flash fiction friday #69 trigger; inclusions: gorge, tingle, throb, bathe, trouble.

rules of engagement:
you will send in your suggestions for flash fiction friday triggers (starter sentences/phrases, closers, titles, inclusions, structural/thematic challenges, etc.) anytime during the week up to 11.09a.m. friday, trinbago time; i will post the new fff trigger by noon friday trinbago time.*
if your trigger is not chosen and you think it is too brilliant not to be chosen, you will send it in again the next week.
you will write an anecdote, short story, song or novel length prose poem using the trigger provided.
you will add comments and appropriate linkage to this/my trigger-post indicating your desire to participate and the completion of your piece (don't need a blogger/gmail account to comment here on my blog).
you may join in at any time prior to deadline.*
you will display your piece as a post on your own blog (or as a comment on this/my trigger-post or fasbook note or instastory or whaever, once we can all read it- please make sure we can all access the link to read it, not just those who are your friends on fasbook; there's a way to create public links for that, right?).
you will be done by monday noon trinbago time.* [in light of collective busyness and my general mentality, i not pressed about these deadlines 'cause i'd rather have fun reading late than never, so if you want to fff past deadline, go through hard, just make sure you comment on the appropriate trigger-post so we know which it belongs to, and if is a real old trigger, comment on the most recent post as well so we know something new to back-back+read...if nobody fffs i'll leave the same trigger up until at least 1person other than myself writes a piece]*
write fresh!
walk good.

fff#68

finish writing/editing@noon-on-the-nose so i suppose this post technically late, but we reach still, imperfect, but i think the idea there; flash fiction friday #68: write of vengeance.

fingers flying over keys, blood thundering in her ears, brain rushing same way, she wasn’t debating anymore. the avalanche of memories, everything she had been holding back, pushing down, squeezing, compressing between the folds of her mind, forcibly forgetting, the weight of all of it made further debate impossible. the evidence was undeniable and something had to happen.
memory: schoolyard, late, almost dark…she, young, alone, waiting…she waited like that too much, in dark, lonely places. nobody else in her class would get leave back so late, so often. she wondered if her mother loved her. she knew her father didn’t.
Looove working out those daddy issues…
memory: sweating in the car, waiting outside the bar, wondering what went on inside that was so great it was worth her wait. later, years later, still waiting, now reluctant designated driver, nearly resigned to her fate as a captive enabler, barely holding onto an idea of escape…
BDSM fetish…
memory: her own words she thought safe in their leather binding, brandished like the rod of correction breaking the glass over her emergency extinguisher, her flight plans shattered like the childhood piggybank plundered to stop her executing them.
Rape fantasy, don’t ask, just come+take and if I resist, force me…
starting all over, saving from scratch again was going to take many months and she couldn’t do it like this, this vex, this resentful. she couldn’t live waking up feeling this way every day, that would send her mad. she needed to release the frustration that was steadily building and seemingly boundless…releasing that pressure would give her room to breathe…
glad she was smart enough not to hide all the secrets she was saving in her invaded journal, she uploaded the carefully selected photo of her mother, added her mother’s digits, social media handles, email addresses, every item of contact information she had, to the fake profile she created. And only when she had shared @fuckmeMILF across multiple platforms and knew the barbarians would soon be storming her mother’s gate, ensuring she would be left alone to make her eventual escape, could she think clearly again.

walk good

flash fiction friday #68

flash fiction friday #68 trigger; instruction: write of vengeance.

rules of engagement:
you will send in your suggestions for flash fiction friday triggers (starter sentences/phrases, closers, titles, inclusions, structural/thematic challenges, etc.) anytime during the week up to 11.09a.m. friday, trinbago time; i will post the new fff trigger by noon friday trinbago time.*
if your trigger is not chosen and you think it is too brilliant not to be chosen, you will send it in again the next week.
you will write an anecdote, short story, song or novel length prose poem using the trigger provided.
you will add comments and appropriate linkage to this/my trigger-post indicating your desire to participate and the completion of your piece (don't need a blogger/gmail account to comment here on my blog).
you may join in at any time prior to deadline.*
you will display your piece as a post on your own blog (or as a comment on this/my trigger-post or fasbook note or whaever, once we can all read it- please make sure we can all access the link to read it, not just those who are your friends on fasbook; there's a way to create public links for that, right?).
you will be done by monday noon trinbago time.* [in light of collective busyness and my general mentality, i not pressed about these deadlines 'cause i'd rather have fun reading late than never, so if you want to fff past deadline, go through hard, just make sure you comment on the appropriate trigger-post so we know which it belongs to, and if is a real old trigger, comment on the most recent post as well so we know something new to back-back+read...if nobody fffs i'll leave the same trigger up until at least 1person other than myself writes a piece]*
write fresh!
walk good.

postcarnival post

so much tings a gwan i eh even realise me eh do no carnival post, oui; cyah come back with fff and not remedy that omission.
this year thus far, a revelation. tings i thought i know about myself and my relationships proven beautifully beyond my best imaginings and because i believed in me and my knowledge of self [holy shit, that sound so fucking corny coming from me! so not-me] i made what already-obviously-right choices. so now, my ass happy, productive, relieved...
amazing carnival season+show with the canals [ah love it was a solo moment onstage for me, i get to be so fully in it this rounds, deeply, completely inside my song to the point where everynight i would reopen my eyes and be shocked to realise it had people, audience, band, there with me] and canals start our season with this photoshoot, jumpstarting my carnival in paint+glitter 1time...

not having 3canal carnival show run all the way through carnival saturday as usual was a weirdness+tabanca, but my best boys pull me through that plus them hard choices and everyting else, brilliantly; let the record say: them boys is my champions; months now, all since las' year, restoring my faith and keeping me in ganja+guinness, roti+totie [my life plan, as of 2019] keeping me downright happy...me, happy! so bizarre, plus coupled with the strange phenomenon of me being in season, again, at what becoming a little old for this level of being in season...dread, the tings, and the sheer amount i turn down this year already...
i not used to being happy; my life brings me many much-appreciated moments of joy, but i not a happy person, never have been. i remember being weirded out by how happy i was in the earlies of me+grims, and right now weird like that. i happy being single, happy with the choices i making for meself, happy with the work i making, water more than flour already get picked up for something very cool [details later], i do a nex' ting for bbc radio again the other day, happy with my boys, starting to get  a handle on life, tings coming to come maybe...yuhknow? so now i hadda try+learn to relax into it and not always be expecting disaster because is me, and enjoy being happy [seem so obvious, ent? enjoy being happy...] insteada bringing to it the same melancholy i live in inside in my head...
aaand this shit about to get existential; look, lemme mash brakes one time.
talk soon.
walk good.

fff#67

gosh, i clean forget how much fun this shit can be!
i know i cheat ever so slightly on the form of 1 of the [inclusion]trigger-words, and the piece might be a little strange for a non-trini reader who may not recognise "she", but i always willing to answer questions and you eh need a blogger account to comment/question here and i like the piece enough to leggo the 1word, so am totally chuffed to present my attempt@flash fiction friday #67; [inclusions]trigger: cold, bold, fold, hold, rolled.

she shiver. the place was like a desert these days, sweatiness of the days belying cold dark nights. but heat sooncome, she remind herself, smiling darkly against the black night. she almost bring something warm to wear outside, then laugh at how stupid+unnecessary the idea was. she make her way through the dark, the route back to herself familiar, easy…
she more bold with each movement, each crossing, exiting through the silence of suspicion shrouding her yard, pushing through the fog of rumour+fear lingering along her path, clearing the edge of the village and cutting into the other world of whispering trees and screaming spirits…
she reach. standing at the top of the rise looking up into the arms of the silk cotton she feel herself rising inside, growing out of herself, getting bigger than her self could contain, reaching, spreading, unfolding her branches to meet those above her. she couldn’t stop smiling now, feeling herself coming into and simultaneously bursting out of her self, and suddenly she was in the tree, delicately balancing in the midst of the magic of undressing her fire…
the silk cotton always stronger than its old age might suggest, always able to hold+protect, to hide+keep safe, secrets, skins, whole selves…
stripped now of skin and the form of her self, pure heat+light rolled up into the sky, all fire+laughter, finally free to feed…

walk good.

flash fiction friday #67

my apologies! in true trini style i return from long fff hiatus with a late trigger...swear is the mother's fault, though; i had wha's below ready to go then had to stop+lecture her about not telling people where+when she riding out alone. steups. anyhow...
flash fiction friday #67 trigger; inclusions: cold, bold, fold, hold, rolled.

rules of engagement:
you will send in your suggestions for flash fiction friday triggers (starter sentences/phrases, closers, titles, inclusions, structural/thematic challenges, etc.) anytime during the week up to 11.09a.m. friday, trinbago time; i will post the new fff trigger by noon friday trinbago time.*
if your trigger is not chosen and you think it is too brilliant not to be chosen, you will send it in again the next week.
you will write an anecdote, short story, song or novel length prose poem using the trigger provided.
you will add comments and appropriate linkage to this/my trigger-post indicating your desire to participate and the completion of your piece (don't need a blogger/gmail account to comment here on my blog).
you may join in at any time prior to deadline.*
you will display your piece as a post on your own blog (or as a comment on this/my trigger-post or fasbook note or whaever, once we can all read it- please make sure we can all access the link to read it, not just those who are your friends on fasbook; there's a way to create public links for that, right?).
you will be done by monday noon trinbago time.* [in light of collective busyness and my general mentality, i not pressed about these deadlines 'cause i'd rather have fun reading late than never, so if you want to fff past deadline, go through hard, just make sure you comment on the appropriate trigger-post so we know which it belongs to, and if is a real old trigger, comment on the most recent post as well so we know something new to back-back+read...if nobody fffs i'll leave the same trigger up until at least 1person other than myself writes a piece]*
write fresh!
walk good.