Breaking Free – A Five Sentence Flash Fiction

Prison – A Haiku

the prison without
bars tightens around my soul
self-imposed pain

Breaking Free - A Five Sentence Flash Fiction

Breaking Free

Choices had to be made today, no longer could she put them to the side, hide behind what had happened in her past.

It was time to make a move, a large one, something that would get her unstuck, and away from this self-imposed prison.

But making a choice could come with the price of falling, of making a mistake, without the safety-net – the comfort of her usual, but well-known painful existence.

A soft noise broke through the desolate silence of the tiny bedroom.

 

She turned her head toward the crib, her heart beating faster, with a mixture of fear and love, and knew, that somewhere inside of her, she had no choice but to find the courage – for that little girl.

Copyright Claudia H. Blanton 2014

Parted Lover

Parted Lover - A Poem

Parted Lover

Now that I am gone, will you still hear
my voice, as it slowly fades from this
world to another?
Will you remember the embrace we shared
on the carpet of flowers, at the edge of hill?
The sun-birds darting in and out, fast
before the rain comes, and our life ends.

Oh Love –

can you hear my whisper, slow and steady,
my words reaching for you as my lips had once done
while you watch, as they lower my body below.

© Claudia Blanton 2014

Invisible – A Dark Slice of Life Flash Fiction

homeless_woman

 

No one sees me, no one.

I blend in with the concrete, the lines on my face reflecting those of the lines of the pavement. I am bruised and battered, just like these streets, I call home.

Am I invisible, worthless in the corner of my domain, the bushes keeping me out of sight of the police. I shiver in the breeze, settling around me. It had rained last night, I am wet, I am cold, I am hungry.

No longer human.

Reduced to nothing but the shadow of what I once was. A beautiful young, and vibrant woman, my skin smooth, now laced with dirt and patches, that itch, over and over again. Never to heal. How could they in this filth?

There, a woman passes, her pace accelerates as she glances at m, like I am a piece of rotting flesh to be discarded.

Well, I do smell. But I have gotten used to the smell, it keeps me company, and it keeps those away who still see me, as a woman who could satisfy their sickening need. I smell worse than a dog, and it has become my armor. Ironic isn’t it?

I grin, staring toward the busy street in front of me, knowing that no one would miss me if I were just gone, disappeared.

After all, how can you miss the Invisible?

Copyright Claudia H. Blanton 2014

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