Happy ending? – dVerse Open Link Night #172

8549351721_6783931bac_b

This may not end.

Well,

it might not end well.

Well, it could start,

may begin,

is likely to achieve a middle of sorts.

Fair to middling.

All’s fair in love, and war,

the victor’s writing the history,

even now, as I write, or speak.

Revisionist, recidivist,

making the same mistakes over and over

and over

again.

Over and out.

I’m signing off here

because, you know,

it may not end at all well.


Last night was Open Link Night over on dVerse! Why not pop on over to revel in all the glorious poetry, and even take part yourself?

I hope you enjoy my (late) offering above.

Over and Out – Sunday Photo Fiction

62-06-june-1st-2014

Shoes. I hadn’t seen a pair for years, not proper, shop-bought, complete shoes that had a hope of keeping your feet dry.

I remember the patent red pair that Mum had bought me as a little girl. I had loved those shoes, loved how they reminded me of cherries. I could barely remember the taste of any fruit, not any more. Yet still my mouth watered at the thought.

I shielded my eyes from the fierce sun as the shoes danced back and forth, tantalizingly. I bet the wires from which the shoes dangled hadn’t carried messages for a decade.

My feet ached for those shoes. I had made up my mind to retrieve them when a rogue cloud covered the sun. The land around me lost its bleach and I saw that the hillock on the ground was more sinister. It was the remains of a man, long dead, his arm reaching up in a last attempt to gain his prize.

This was a trap. No doubt there were live wires buried in the telegraph pole, ready to pass on their own message to us rebels. We will kill you all.

Not me, not today, I thought.

————–

Here’s my latest entry into Alistair’s Sunday Photo Fiction. He supplies us with his own wonderful photos, so deserves our support! Happy Sunday, all….

Do take part if you have time, or just pop over and read the other entries.