Friday, May 14, 2010

Road Trip Revenge 55

Hate inspired adrenaline
kept him alert
during the six hour drive
across the rolling
wheat covered hills.
Revenge was his prime motivation.
The excitement of the hunt
made him feel more alive
than he had felt in months.
Finally, he would remove
the monkey from his back
and rid the world
of this horrible predator.
This is a Flash Fiction Friday 55.
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Monday, May 10, 2010

Mag Pie Tales - Inner Eye

Prismatic worm-like segments floated at the periphery of his vision. Closing his eyes, he hoped it would be different this time around but deep inside he knew nothing would change. Instinctively, he grabbed the fatty tissue between the thumb and forefinger of his left hand with the thumb and forefinger of his right and squeezed. He knew his pressure points and hoped this might at least be the preemptive strike he needed. A temporary reprieve.

He slowed his heart rate as best he could, but while the rhythmic pounding slowed it seemed louder and more exaggerated with every pulse and the floating segments burst into brighter colors with the cadence of the beat.

He pressed his hand tighter moving it slightly to find the most tense part of the muscle in his hand. "Please stop," he pleaded silently to no God in particular.

Pound-Flash. Pound-Flash. Pound-Flash. It continued in simultaneous bursts. He tried to imagine it was his own personal fireworks show. Spinning the most positive thought he could to make light of the coming storm.

He wanted to bury his head. Flee to total darkness but it was impossible in cube town where heads popped up in random succession, voices drifted overhead like low lying thunder clouds and fluorescent lights buzzed like bees stirred from their hive. Instead he squeezed open his eyes to peer out the tunnel his vision had become only to see his supervisor hovering over him with "that look" on his face again.

"Nap time, Emery?" came the voice with a sound like the whine of metal gears grinding in a worn out transmission.

"Just computer eye strain," was the weakened reply. He knew only one thing that would cure his malady. His inner eye had been telling me for weeks. "Get a new job. One you love and makes you feel fulfilled," it would say.

One day he would listen.

Sunday, May 9, 2010

A Sunday 160 To My Wife

Her rhythmic breathing
was quiet and peaceful.
I reached out
to caress
her warm soft skin.
She rustled slightly
as I whispered

“Happy Mother’s Day. I love you.”
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For the original Sunday 160 post click here.
The Sunday 160 only uses 160 characters (including spaces).
Keep on schedule - post Sunday.
Let me know you have posted via a comment on my site.
Visit at least one other Sunday 160.