Tag: six sentence story

Consummation

Girlie on the edge’s six sentence story prompt word – wrap

When you pour your love into me, happy molecules overflow from my pores like the sunlight through the canopy.

I look up to you with admiring crescent moon eyes, letting all your splendour shimmer over me.

We are wrapped in this silk cacoon waiting to be birthed into something magnificent with blinding colours.

Who’d have known that we are capable of creating such life and joy, all in a matter of auras flashing and mortal intertwined?

We can’t help but worship the creator creating such divine bond between two souls.

Unity in unison in welcoming a new life of oneness with twinkling eyes and fulfilling smile, we are in awe.

Decision

This is written in response to Denise’s Six Sentence Story word prompt – Mess.

That was probably the hardest video call he had to make, the ambience filled with a sense of dread.

“I decided to take the teaching job offer and stay in Berlin”, he launched straight into it without delaying the blade.

Silence, absolutely silence, then her eyes welled up, then the screen went blank, clearly, she hanged up.

Then the text came, “Obviously, you have made up you mind. I have nothing to say and no strength to fight for us anymore. I wish you all the best and I still love us, but that’s the past .”

After sending the text, she let her tears roll down like a waterfall sitting in the waiting area of the abortion clinic; what was a decision to be made, now is a conclusion.

From the soundbar, Ami Winehouse is singing, “…love is a losing game, one I wished I never played, oh what a mess we made…”

Copy and Paste

Denise’s Six Sentence Story prompt – Paste

When his mother died, he didn’t know what to feel, grief or relief. A life of luxury, adventure and parties, endless parties with high end booze and drugs, now no more. Part of him felt lost, part of him felt liberated, from all the powerful, wealthy and filthy men, there was also this remaining part felt angry which was suppressed by numbness.

How do you suppose to feel that the woman who raised you was also the pimp, died before you could get an answer out of her, why did she hate you so much to do unspeakable things to you from a young age. The mother and son relationship was emotionless, copy and paste, repeatedly being showered with affections then thrown into another perpetrator’s den to endure the rejection.

His mother died, and his breakdown and healing have just begun.

The Club

This is written based on Denise’s Six Sentence Story prompt word – Club.

Lion Bark was a world famous golfer who won many titles which were a few shied away from the young men he slept with during his long career.

One of his winning clubs was gifted by his favourite Korean lover, which he took with him around the world wherever he played in tournaments. That club reminded him of his lover’s parting words, “I’ve given my blood, sweat and tears to this club, wherever you go, take it with you in remembrance of me.”

Over the years he tried to reconnect with his Korean lover without success. His response had always been that he was under the surveillance by his government officials for crimes he did not commit.

Little did Lion Bark know, he is the reason that his Korean lover was not in jail, because of the murder weapon he kept with him.

You Are Dead to Me

A six sentence story based on Denise’s prompt – Guard

The Queen has an oinker son who is deserved of being barbecued, for he is a pedophile.

He was born with a silver spoon and has been milking it ever since.

When the shit hit the fan, he hurried to cling to his mother’s skirts.

‘My Queen, I have been naughty; in your Holy book, I am forgiven, it’s my right to be forgiven by you, Mother.’

The Queen swallowed her tears and called out ‘ Guards’.

‘Oh no Mother…oh no…how about my teddies?’ while he was dragged out of the palace.

Table for Two

Six Sentence Story prompt word – Space


The sun prints on the floor to give a hint of time.
I have been sitting in the chill for longer than I realise.
The coffee has gone cold, and the froth has gone undone.
People perhaps grow tired of me watching them, they call the bill swiftly.
This table is meant to be bridging our hands together.
But with your absence, the space between us grows apart further and deeper.

Goodbye

This is written for Denise’s Six Sentence Story word prompt – Confetti

We were so young.

It’s not our fault that
we didn’t have time
to rehearse life.

We didn’t understand that
stubborn promises were just a preface.

We loved so hard.

We were so inexplicable,
so endearing,
so annoying,
consumed by seven emotions
and six desires.


It was cold that day,
tears turned into ice,
snowflakes falling down
like confetti,
red-eyed, red-faced.

Love As A Failed Art

Six Sentence Story word prompt – Canvas


I am an amateur artist finger painting on the canvas of our pure love.
Frantically smear every excitement all over a seemingly life long foundation, I am over charged with passion.
Halfway, I realise that there are patches heavily loaded with enthusiasm.
The balance is destroyed.
Giving my best effort to salvage it, I only manage to make it dark and dull.
Now the beauty is ruined, and I quit trying.

Storm Express

This is written as a Six Sentence Story based on Denise’s word prompt- Express

It was close to midnight. We decided to drive to the beach to experience the ocean under the moonlight.

We swam far and deep out of the ocean, exhilarated, shrieking with excitement between waves. The waves built bigger and stronger tossing us to a dangerous new high.

Then came the indigo storm, running towards us like an express train, forcing us to swim for our life. When it hit the shore in such great force, we were spat out like wreckage, exhausted and intertwined, looking like a cluster of seaweeds.

Crutch Free

Six Sentence Story word prompt – Grip

Rhyming is like a pencil grip. I started to write poetry in forms and rhymes which guided me and trained me in discipline.

I long ditched the once safe guard. I figured that if I kept walking with a crutch, I hardly walk in freedom.

There are still times I rhyme, given the word chosen is the best fit to the line. There is comfort in knowing a satisfying piece of work finds its way back to basic, the pencil grip.