Plum silhouette looms
on unexplored horizon.
Obstacle? Or goal?
About the Creator
Penny Fuller
(Not my real name)- Other Labels include:
Lover of fiction writing and reading. Aspiring global nomad. Woman in science. Most at home in nature. Working my way to an unconventional life, story by story and poem by poem.
Enjoyed the story? Support the Creator.
Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed. You could also pledge your support or give them a one-off tip, letting them know you appreciate their work.
Keep reading
More stories from Penny Fuller and writers in Poets and other communities.
His Haibun
He does not like poetry; I write it anyway and do not tell him. It's true his face is not a poet's face. It is round and open, youthful; too apt to be compared to the sun. His nose is neat. It is impossible to imagine him smoking a cigarette, terse, full of cheekbones and tension. His warmth burns my fingertips. I am here for his fascinating body, the haphazard freckles I touch one by one; he is here for my eyes, just my eyes. A sunbeam sneaks through the curtains and pierces us both, sizzling the spices of his skin. I inhale and wrap myself in him. He kisses my eyes.
By TheSpinstress6 days ago in Poets
Bonfires and Herbs
There was a betrayer in our midst. We had no way of knowing, for they kept their evil deeds cloaked in deception. Our little village of Hampshire was taken entirely by surprise when they committed their traitorous acts. We had no thoughts to predict that at the time of our celebrating the Sun's ascension to the highest point in the Northern Sky, they would strike with a most diabolical blow. A blow that has undoubtedly left a mark burned deep into the pure white light of our hearts.
By The Invisible Writer3 days ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.