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Weekly Contest #371
Behind the metal shelving, stacked nearly to the ceiling with enormous bags of potting soil and giant clay planters, I lay hidden until the store would close. My hidy-hole was discovered by accident when I spotted a small mouse family living in it back in ‘98. Seeing the benefit of it for my own use, I promptly evicted the mice nest with a thorough cleaning out and then re-stacked the stock to suit my purposes. After that task was completed I pointed out the problem of mice to Big Mike (my supervisor) and suggested we get a cat to keep ...
Weekly Contest #364
“My roses!”,Annie screamed, dropped her purse and stepped into the kitchen, her eyes going immediately to the floor in front of her, focusing on the neat-as-a-pin rows of roses shaped into a Mandala wreath of varied and vibrant colors. Annie had spent the last ten years nurturing, clipping, fertilizing and lovingly caring into perfection her backyard rose garden. Her American Beauties ranging in color from a deep pink to crimson were woven into the pattern with her Old Garden varieties in hues of coral and orange. Their fragrance filled the ...
Weekly Contest #361
King Whisker’s BlessingsBy Karen Ciesielski-MottaBig Little glanced at Little Big and laughed. His deep baritone voice carried his laugh out across the water of the pond. Though his old eyes were dimmed of sight they crinkled in delight at the small child looking up at him from his seat in the small fishing skiff. Little Big grinned back with the toothless charm of every seven year old. Their smiles were matched, each missing the same teeth. Like looking in a mirror of time, each reflected a past, present and future image of the other. As th...
Weekly Contest #354
He gazed out across the vast landscape in front of him. The checkered fields of alternating green, yellow and black created a patchwork pattern of the new double-pronged rows of corn shoots, fresh mowed timothy grass cut and turned on its flaxen side ready to be baled and the black cultivated soil of the resting fields, still straight and orderly in their rows. The sight of it made his heart clutch in the unbearable tightness of unanswered longing. Fifty years had passed since he last looked upon the shire of his youth.Everything had changed...
Weekly Contest #350
I’m pretty sure we can all remember the first time we got drunk. For some, the over consumption seemed fun. An exciting experience that made the next adventure in drinking a longed-for escape that can now be looked back on with nostalgia. For others, like myself, it was a descent into hell with the fear and pain of never escaping its nauseating clutches that makes me, to this day, shudder when I recall it.My friend, Sandy, was of the first persuasion. Her first experience of getting drunk and throwing up was “fun” and she “couldn’t wait to d...
Weekly Contest #339
A pink-mouthed yawn stretched open as the little squirrel sat in her cozy nest high above the soft needled carpet below. Her home in the Ponderosa pine tree provided everything she needed to survive and thrive. She was twenty feet above ground snugly tucked into her drey lined with moss, feathers, and bark. Outside was a chilly night but in her nest the Abert’s squirrel, with her tasseled ears always alert for danger, was busily nibbling on a pine nut from her small cache of the day’s forage. It was comforting to wake up at night, sniff the ...
Weekly Contest #315
….Three Years Later, 2006 By Karen Ciesielski-Motta His feet clapped on the smooth wet sand. Its black shine made it appear metallic but still, it clung to his feet like dark rich soil. Ocean breezes assailed his nostrils bringing the smells of rotting seaweed and humid salt water mixed with a delicious aroma wafting from his to-go bag of food. Before heading to the remote Nelayan Beach on his rented e-bike he had stopped off at Hungry Bird cafe for a popular Bali meal and a cup of their locally grown and roasted coff...
Weekly Contest #310
My first meeting with the Ladies Literary Society was at the home of the head of the group, Susan Brooks. We first met on the New Haven/Bridgeport line one day in spring when we were both headed to NYC for some shopping. As the train clacked and rattled along its tracks we sat in the first class dining car enjoying our afternoon tea and cake.After exchanging our names and hometowns the topics spread out to our interests and hobbies. I shared that I enjoyed writing poetry. Haiku poems , to be exact, as I explained that I had lived and studied...
Weekly Contest #305
DOGE Dirge By Karen Ciesielski-Motta *At the intersection I could go right and head home - but turning left would take me on an adventure. Maybe I would find a different route home - the scenic route around the hustle of city traffic. So what if it took an extra 20 minutes of travel time? The view would be worth it. Plus, riding my bike to and from work was good exercise. With that thought I suddenly went back in my mind over the strange events that had occurred today.Our company that worked for the Fed was on the chopping block be...
Weekly Contest #287
Her Ladyship’s TeatimeBy Karen Ciesielski As she walked into the kitchen she addressed the teakettle, “Start me a cuppa,please.” Immediately, the bright red electric tea kettle lit up and began to bubble and churn merrily in its stand on the kitchen counter. Virginia felt relaxed and happy to be at home preparing a cup of tea on this rainy London afternoon. Her days were mostly filled with AI data and testing methods. She spoke to her kitchen appliances as though they were people; her home/laboratory acted as a testing center for all sorts ...
Weekly Contest #197
The cage was pink wire in the shape of a split-level house. Inside the cage were an assortment of hanging brightly colored toys, food and water dispensers and a small parakeet whose feathers were perfectly white. This is what Thalia saw when she opened her front door to the loud and persistent knocking that had awoken her. Dark circles hung baggily under her squinting blue eyes- a sign of her constant lack of sleep. Her insomnia had returned, as it often did when she was anxious or worried- which was often as of late. She rubbed at her eyes ...
Weekly Contest #186
As the children sat in a circle around the giant conch, their eyes, shining from the hearth fire, were glued to the speaker as they munched on candied seaweed. The recipe for candied seaweed came from the narrator and storyteller extraordinaire, Briny Breeze. As she watched the children's little mouths chew the sticky delight she thought of the story her Grandmother, Seaworthy Breeze, had told her eons ago about how the recipe was a gift of remembrance from the sea nymphs. Many years ago the sea nymphs had found a human child and brought h...
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