50 Word Stories-Treatment (and a comment)

Shutter Island

Who weighs options when they feel weightless?

It’s fun, for a while–leaving it all up to chance and whim.

There are times that seem so bleak, with no silver-lined rim to rely on.

But waiting for help doesn’t stop there: you’ve got a chance to abscond, so take it now.

(Comment: Hi fellow bloggers, but I’m sad to inform you, but as of tomorrow, I’ll be inactive here for a while because I need to go to a medical facility for treatment, and I won’t have internet access except through my smartphone. Maybe all the nurses will be as charming as all of you; I don’t know, but I hope to see you soon!)

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50 Word Stories: Yearning

YearningThe earnings’s greatIf you cover the cost
They’ll print you money, until you’re embossed!

It’s all a game –Don’t believe what you hear
You have a chance now –But I’ll be clear

By taking this job, all your needs are met…
Except, what you’ll lose…you won’t forget

Sign here!

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50 Word Stories: Redemption–Deliverance

Menma

An easy prompt to cast, this word,

“as we wait for the redemption of our bodies…”

As easy as a dwelling house; as easy as the words a father says.

How can one hope in what is unseen?

I’ve waited and hoped; I’ve relied on you all along…

Or, alone?

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50 Word Stories: Life-Hacks

Perfect Blue
She sighed; rolled her eyes.
She pressed on the bridge of her nose and closed the blinking browser window.

She adjusted her glasses, smiled,

“Life-hacks like these won’t do…not if you want to move toward tear-inducing agony.”

She gestured with her hand,

“Pinch your lower lip, hard.”

We cried

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50 Word Stories: Quiescent

SylviaThe next morning, I took her to the outpatient clinic.

We waited for her check-in; I sat next to her; held her pulsing hand.

Lots of people today. She mumbled.

A case manager placed a white-noise machine outside the door of the staff office:

Soothing purrs blanketed so many whispers.

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50 Word Stories: Ar(rest)

Awakening
A first: going back to her place, watching her sleep.

She preferred repose on her side; her right foot crossed beneath her left to feel her knee, hip and shoulder pressed into the firm mattress.

She slept with her arm extended, her hand reaching for an embrace that rarely arrived.

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50 Word Stories: Adage

Smirking

It’s such a dilemma, being a skeptic—the crux was losing those innocent beliefs I formed in Sunday school.

I wore the essential dresses and shoes; I smiled; I prayed; I tried to trust and adhere.

But as Chance would have it, I only learned to smirk:

I’m a sinner.

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50 Word Stories: Pressure

4628781553_0387f46b0e_z1Was it the strain of being so restrained and reserved that impelled the always equable N. to do it?

Neither of us could be candid about why she’d traced such immane lines into her arms.

I’m sorry.

Before I could respond, the kettle on the stove began whistling fierce notes.

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50 Word Stories: Supple

mobile

When I went home, my parents were caring for a limp, but quiet, child—the result of some undiagnosable brain damage at birth.

His body held a blank repose in the crib as he watched a prismatic mobile spin overhead.

Even so, he’d still smile whenever I stroked his ears.

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50 Word Stories: Beacon

111122222334433

After four years of school and competitive swimming, a meet brought me there.

This homecoming was more for my parents than myself, but they had a screened-in pool I used for making laps…or, having a lapse.

Planted on the eaves of their waters was the rusted lantern of my childhood.

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