π Nancy is a storyteller, music blogger, humorist, poet, curveballer, noir dreamer π
Written for dVerse Prosery: A View from the Hills.
Our host, Sanaa, asks us to write a piece of prosery
of up to 144 words, including the line shown below.
This is where the prompt took me.
βThe hills so dry, so dense the underbrush, that
where I pushed my way the giant hush was changed
to soft explosions.β From the poem βOn a View of
Pasadena from the Hillsβ by Yvor Winters.
Written for dVerse Prosery Pub β Publication.
where our host, Melissa, has asked us to write a
144-word piece of prosery incorporating the lines
from Emily Dickinsonβs poem: βPublication β is
the Auction of the Mindβ. Hereβs my response.
Written for dVerse Prosery β βWinter Lullβ – hosted by
Merril who has asked us to write a 144-word
piece of prose, including the poetic verse
shown below. This is my response.
βIt all belies our existence; we wait, and are still denied.β
from “Winter-Lull” by D.H. Lawrence
Written for dVerse Prosery: T.S. Eliot and
J. Alfred Prufrock. BjΓΆrn, our host, challenges
us to write a poem of 144 words including the
highlighted line from βThe Love Song of
J. Alfred Prufrockβ. Here is my poem.
Written for dVerse Poets Prosery: Yvorβs
“Time and the Garden”. Our host, Sanaa, asks us
to write a short piece of prosery of up to 144 words
and include a complete line from the poem
βTime and the Gardenβ. Here is my haibun.
Written for dVerse Prosery: Walcottβs Dark August.
Our host Kim asks us to write a piece of flash fiction
of up to or exactly 144 words, including the line shown
below by Derek Walcott. Here’s where his line took me.
Written for dVerse Prosery Monday:
Prosery In the Words of Lisa Bellamy.
Our host Sanaa asks us to write a 144
word story using the quote shown at
the bottom of the page. This is my prose.
Written for dβVerse Prosery where the challenge is to write
a piece of flash fiction of no more than 144 words that includes
the following quotation from βOut Of The Cradleβ by Walt Whitman:
βOut of the Ninth-month midnightβ. This is my flash.
Melissa is our host for dVerse Prosery Monday. She has asked us to write a prose story of up to 144 words using the quote βI pray to God that she may lie forever with unopened eyeβ by Edgar Allan Poe. Here is my prose in exactly 144 words.
It was no secret that Frederickβs father committed suicide, due, in no small part, to his wifeβs constant belittling. The note he left read βThe vile bitch! I pray to God that she may lie forever with unopened eyeβ.
Not wanting his mother to be alone, and despite his wife Heleneβs protests, Frederick moved his mother into their home. He hoped the two women might provide some companionship for each other but they soon began arguing.
Helene could do nothing right in her mother-in-lawβs eyes. The old woman went so far as to flaunt Heleneβs inability to have a baby, goading her on by calling her wretched, a desiccated vessel, a disappointing failure.
Now the pain and humiliation had taken its toll and Helene began her descent into madness. One day while Frederick was at work, she bludgeoned his mother to a bloody pulp.
NARΒ©2024
144 Words
This is “Song by Edgar Allan Poe”
All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephantβs Trunk and The Rhythm Section and are not to be used without permission. NARΒ©2017-present.
Written for the dVerse Prosery Prompt by Amy Woolard:
βWhat does it matter that the stars we see are already deadβ
βWhat does it matter that the stars we see are already dead? What does that even mean, Margie?β
βOh, Nell. If I have to explain it to you, it loses its gravitas, its pathos, doesnβt it?β
βGravitas? Pathos? Iβm sorry .β¦ when were you named chief cook, bottlewasher and poet laureate?β
Margie gave her friend a dismissive eye roll before turning her back, busying herself with little scraps of paper on her desk.
There was a time the two were like sisters, cherishing a bond they never found with anyone else. Now they barely recognized each other; their conversations were stilted to the point of being painful.
And it all came down to Nicole, a newcomer in their exclusive inner circle …. a renaissance woman and Margie thought she hung the moon.
βI miss us, Margieβ
Intense silence. Spoken words were never as wounding.
NARΒ©2024
144 Words
This is βSisters Of The Moonβ by Fleetwood Mac
All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephantβs Trunk and The Rhythm Section and is not for use by anyone without permission. NARΒ©2017-present.
Lisa is serving as host for todayβs dVerse Prosery prompt.
We are to write a piece of up to 144 words and include the line
βBut that smile was the last smile to come upon her faceβ.
This is my response for Lisaβs dVerse Prosery prompt.
We were living in Tennessee with my Aunt Luella and Uncle Boz after my mam and pap were killed in the South Carrollton, Kentucky train wreck of 1917. Just five days before Christmas and our family was torn apart. My mam and Aunt Luella were sisters; mamβs death nearly destroyed Auntie.
Back in January we all had such high hopes for 1917. My cousin Henry, Aunt Luella and Uncle Bozβs firstborn, was set to graduate high school in June, the first one in the family with that distinction. Aunt Luella was so proud of Henry, she couldnβt help smiling thinking of Henryβs bright future.
But that smile was the last smile to come upon her face.
Henry enlisted in the army one month before graduation. He died in the Battle of Cambrai on Thanksgiving Day.
We lost too much that year.
NARΒ©2024
144 Words
This is Stephen Foster’s “My Old Kentucky Home” sung by Paul Robeson
This portfolio (including text, graphics and videos) is copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephantβs Trunk and The Rhythm Section and is not for use by anyone without permission. NAR Β© 2017-present.
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