Short Story

Author: rayul (via unsplash)

That was highly bizarre. Jeremy Silverstene felt completely paralyzed. He couldn’t move the way he’d like to, as if the connection between his brain and body had been cut off. Only the eyeballs listened to his will, the rest of the body seemed programmed to be doing one activity — driving and driving only.

Jerry was driving along the E852 road between North Macedonia and Albania. About one hundred kilometers before the border with the latter the road led through mountains so got pretty tricky, quite narrow and extremely curved. On one side he had a steep rock, on the…

Lit Up — April’s Prompt: Distraction

Photo by JillWellington (via pixabay)

She gushes about the pansies
planted in early spring.
How lovely they’ve grown this year.
About this plenty of beige pots
of different patterns and sizes.
About the wide range of flower
colors — royal purple, navy blue,
sunny yellow or dark rusty red!

What she says is wonderful,
but definitely too chaotic.
Her cheeks burn, her hands shake,
her voice trembles, her eyes glow
but avoid meeting mine desperately.
All this seems so very unlike her,
a girl usually as calm as the sea.

No, that can’t be possible! After everything I’ve done. Yet I must give it a…


Photo by Bocerra Govea (via pexels)

What do little monsters, i.e. kiddos, dream about at night? That’s one of the grandest issues hard to fathom, like whether God exists or where the cosmos ends.

I often wonder about that however and, as a result, I’ve come to the conclusion that most frequently they must dream about rodeo. How do I know?

Every day in the morning I go to my kids’ rooms, where they attend remote school classes, and ask them what they’d like for breakfast. That’s exactly what I did several days ago.

My daughter Carol didn’t astonish me at all: toasts with cheese and…

Pulling a tiger by her whiskers

Photo by Max Van Den Oetelaar (via unsplash)

Everybody gets masochistic at times, don’t they? No? Alright, maybe that’s one of these peculiar problems of mine needing a medical treatment, I don’t know. Suffice it to say that sometimes I do take pleasure in getting scratched hard.

Once, I remember, when my daughter was about 11 and already a tiger, I couldn’t resist the whim to get roared at by her. Yeah, my baby girl has always been a strong personality. No kitten. No cuddlesome bunny. But a real tiger. And sometimes I did (and still do) enjoy the risk of playing with the wild in her.


Short Story

Source: tweetyspics (via pixabay)

After a few days of the incredible journey on the famous Adriatic Highway stretching along the sea coastline, they reached Makarska. Ahead of them there was still Dubrovnik to explore and a few lazy days in a quiet village called Molunat right at the border with Montenegro. Jewel Anderson quite enjoyed the Makarska Riviera. The promenade, a bit tacky in fact, couldn’t be denied a certain dreamy charm. The path leading from the hotel to the beach Jewel was walking along right now, particularly these stately tall pine trees on both sides, also brought her lots of aesthetic pleasure.


Poetry Sunday

Photo by Emma Frances Logan (via unsplash)

To keep the music
that’s my life goal.
As each of us is
a vinyl record
born with
some base tune and
grooves to be filled up
in the process of
becoming or destruction.

Everything matters –
every event, every person,
each word or gesture
in developing or
hindering the melody.

The number of instruments,
the depth of sound or
quality of vocal arrangement
don’t depend on us solely, but
also on external circumstances,
which cause scratches

If the frequency of occurrence
isn’t high and the scratches
are handled by us fine,
the music becomes only
more intriguing.

55 word poems

Photo by Jiyeon Park (via unsplash)

I feel like Antonio Vivaldi now, for so many reasons. Just like him, I feel I’ve succeeded in completing the masterpiece of my life. The masterpiece, just like in the case of Antonio, also consists of 4 parts and each of them is devoted to a separate season. My work required as much talent, knowledge, effort and artistry. And, yes, I do hope that after my death (and during my life as well) the work shall attract as much interest, admiration and acclaim. Hell, why not? (And, please, don’t tell me there are a million reasons why not.)

More seriously…

Source: Art Wall — Kittenprint (via unsplash)

55 worder

Marta Mozolewska

translator, mother of two naughty kids, and writer in the meantime,

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