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  • Thrown Away

    In response to prompt provided by Sadje – “What Do You see #147

    Thrown away
    Tossed overboard
    Into a roiling sea
    of pain
    of heartache

    Sinking deep
    Waves of despair
    Clog the nose
    fill the lungs
    with sorrow

    No perch
    Liquid foundation
    Undulating underneath
    struggling for
    lost stability

    Voice muted
    Disimpassioned ears
    Ignore cries for help
    anonymity engulfs
    faded away

  • Tortured Soul

    The emptiness-the aloneness
    Disconnected from that special bond

    With another human being can be
    Is totally overwhelming
    Debilitating-all consuming

    No one to turn to
    For light conversation

    Deep-thought provoking verbiage
    Important issues
    That understanding nod

    The wordless communication
    When eyes met

    The touch
    The physical touch
    The lack of it

    Rips apart a tortured soul
    Images of that touch on another

    Bringing her
    Feeding her
    Loving her

    Not me
    Never me

    Only a brief moment in time
    A mere wisp of a breath of Happiness
    A glimpse into a life denied again

    Pain of loss
    Heartache unimaginable

    Seeking oblivion Seeking peace

  • Refuge

    By Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris

    Chapel Image by KL Caley
    #WRITEPHOTO CHALLENGE - CHAPEL

    She had to get to the Chapel, it was the only place that might offer her refuge. She could not, absolutely not marry some decrepit ogre from another county she had never met.

    Yes, at 18 and not married, she’d be too old for marrying soon. None of the suitors her uncle had brought forth previously had, well, suited her.

    This time, she’d not been given a choice. The marriage license had been drawn up by her uncle and her intended’s man, whatever that meant. Well, she was having none of it. Not one single bit of it.

    She was here to see Father Kilpatrick about joining the Sisters Order. She would become a nun before she let some stinky curmudgeon touch her, anywhere. No one could stop her, no one would.

    Fiadh jerked hard on the chapel door handle, it didn’t budge. Using both hands she tugged the ancient door hard, it burst open, tossing her to the ground. She landed amid a sea of her colorful skirts, right on top of the newly turned flower bed.

    A man dressed in colors generally reserved for the Royalty, let out a very manly-type expletive before he spied Fiadh sitting and stewing he surmised, in the middle of the moist soil of the chapels garden.

    “Look at the state o’you!” he exclaimed, reaching a hand out to help Fiadh right herself.

    Her face reddened with embarrassment, turning the skin over her high cheekbones to the most lovely rose color the gentleman had ever seen.

    Fiadh released his hand immediately upon gaining her balance, turned to shake off the soil clinging to her skirts and looked up into the face of the most comely man she had ever laid eyes on.

    “‘Ere let me help you, Lass.” He held his breath, waiting for a rebuke to his assumption, hope, that she remained unmarried.

    “Thank you,” she replied softly, mesmerized by the aqua color of his eyes. “You are most beautiful,” she said quite honestly.

    “Your beauty outshines that of any other Lady or Lass in this entire land,” he answered, smiling at her innocent forthrightness.

    Fiadh blushed harder, the rose deepening upon her cheeks. They both began speaking, stopped then started again in unison. Once their laughter subsided, the young man introduced himself.

    “If I may, my name is Braedyn Farlyn and ‘tis very nice to meet you!” He said, reaching to pick a bit of dirt from her hair.

    A thunderous noise engulfed them, from the East to the West. Horses pounded the cold ground in an effort to heed their Master’s wishes.

    “Oh no, my uncle,” she was barely able to whisper through her panic.

    “My father,” he groaned softly.

    They looked at each other questioning, “What?” Simultaneously, which brought answering smiles again.

    “Go head, please but hurry Fiadh,” the sound of her name rolling off his tongue in the most lovely tone sounding like fee-a.

    “My uncle is trying to marry me off to some old codger to give him sons, but I can’t, I just can’t!”

    Her unshed tears were his undoing. What a Lass she was, beautiful aye, but he could see through to her heart and she was a treasure, his treasure. The thought startled him.

    “Marry me,” he said. “Say yes quickly Fiadh before my father and his men get here to carry me away to marry some old spinster from a farm near here,” his words stringing together in a mad rush of explanation.

    “Yes, yes please Lord Farlyn,” she answered quickly.

    “Braedyn,” he said.

    “Yes, Braedyn,” she began but her hushed response was cut short when he pressed his lips to hers, sealing their commitment for both contingencies to witness.

    Braedyn‘s father arrived only a moment before Fiadh’s uncle galloped up on his prized stud, pulling cruelly on the reigns to halt his charge.

    The two older men looked at the couple embracing each other on the chapels threshold. Both let out belly-rolling guffaws before addressing their younger kin.

    Braedyn’s father spoke first,
    “I see the two of you have met and yer both agreeable to the match?” He said.

    “Finally!” Groaned Fiadh’s uncle but not unkindly. In fact, he looked quite pleased.

    The young couple pulled away from each other, their eyes full of disbelief and wonder.

    “You?” Fiadh asked.

    “You?” Braedyn asked.

    “Well, get on with it then,” stated Fiadh’s uncle, “We ‘aven’t all day to dilly dally ‘ere!”

    The young couple glanced around at the multitude of smiling faces surrounding them, before looking back at each other. Their smiles matching their kins, they stepped into the cool refuge of the chapel. Their hearts now full of joy and hope for the future, their future cocooned in blossoming love.

    The End

  • Night Terror

    By Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris

    In response to
    Fandango’s Story Starter
    “I woke from a sound sleep up with a start, turned on my nightstand light, and…”

    It was late, hours past midnight. I woke from a sound sleep up with a start, turned on my nightstand light, and couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t catch my breath. His weight on my chest prevented inhalation. I tried pushing him off but he was strong, so very strong. I tried not to panic when his tongue swiped up my neck to my face and he started nibbling on my lip.

    “Get off,” I huffed out. This seemed to inspire not deter him. Again another saliva filled lick and nip at my face, his drool ran down my reddening cheeks.

    He moved slightly, I took a big breath and heaved. He rolled slightly to the side. I took the opening and ticked his stomach to keep his attention off of me. It worked! The big beast was insanely ticklish.

    After a moment he rolled over, lifting his head, a gigantic grin on his face.

    “You big lug, I was trying to sleep,” I admonished my two-hundred twenty-five pound English Mastiff, Thor. We curled up, spooning like an old married couple, and slept.

    Koda (my Pomsky) and Tala (my Wolfdog) – THOR is fictional but I’d love to have one!
  • The Getaway

    By Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris

    Image credit: Yaopey Yong @ Unsplash

    In response to Sadje’s
    What Do You See Prompt #146

    She needed to pedal faster, but her little brother was barely holding on. Marika promised her mother that she would get her baby brother to safety and she would do it, no matter what. Kiyoshi begged her to slow down, but she could not. He slipped and screamed, with one hand she hauled him up behind her, yelling at him to hold tight around her waist.

    Marika risked a quick glance behind her, she gasped. Hundreds and hundreds of citizens ran from the blossoming white cloud that had enveloped the city proper. She pedaled faster, up and up to the top of the mountain and down the other side until she found her private hideaway; a small cave that was just big enough for them, plus the big bicycle her mother had borrowed.

    They had only just entered the cave and pulled the over-large bicycle in when the entire mountain began to shake. The wind moaned as though tortured by the ominous white cloud and then a noise so loud, they held their hands tightly over their ears for a very long time. Then there was nothing but painful silence – everywhere.

  • Cell Picture Sunday

    Cellpic Sunday – Hosted by Journeys with Johnbo

    Butterfly on Marigold Photographed by Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris
    Curious BlueJay Photographed by Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris
    Sleeping Koda Photographed by Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris
  • The Osprey Feather

    By Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris

    Photograph by F.E. Jones

    An Osprey left a gift today
    one you found while walking
    along the path on your way

    A short walk to get some air
    the breeze so nice a slight rain
    and the weather so very fair

    Upon the trail you happened to see
    a long lovely Osprey feather
    and gave it to me

    Your words this night rang true
    was a most beautiful thing to hear
    so clear and heartfelt from you

    Before I was in your life
    and you were in mine
    you wore a mantle of strife

    Now because your heart and mine
    are no longer two but only one
    the Osprey feather does us bind

  • Restless Rita

    – A Silly Ditty

    By Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris

    Wikipedia.com
    In response to A Letter A Week – R,
    Hosted by NOPE, NOT PAM

    Restless Rita ran wherever she went
    right up to the red hour
    when it was time to hop
    into her bright rosey bed

    As soon as the moon slipped
    away for its daily respite
    Restless Rita was up running about
    with her best friend Roberta

    Roberta and Rita ran quite fast
    they ran long and they ran hard
    Suddenly Roberta and Rita
    realized they had run too far

    They’d passed Ruth’s Steak House
    and Ruby’s Hair Salon
    They’d even gone by Roger’s Inn
    On Fifth and Reindeer Street

    Rubbing their faces and wondering
    what they were going to do
    When Roberta’s dad Rubin pulled
    up in his old 1958 Rambler A

    Both girls received quite a lecture
    about playing close to home
    He reiterated his point when they
    got to Roberta’s house

    Rita’s dad was waiting at Roberta’s
    a very stern look on his face
    After that neither girl could race
    with red bottoms and two red faces

  • Triple O7

    By Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris

    Photo prompt @ Sandra Crook

    In response to Rochelle Wisoff’s 100 word only – picture prompt for Friday Fictioneers.

    The man was the most gorgeous man she had ever seen. That white hair and close trimmed beard and mustache, had her salivating and not just from her mouth. Unbelievably, he had chosen her out of the dating group she had been assigned to.

    That had been earlier. Dinner was exquisite, the wine expensive and their shared dessert, beyond description. Now they were in his silver 2023 Koenigsegg Jesko Absolut and had bypassed the 100 mph mark all the while driving on the sidewalk no less!

    “Who are you?” she asked.

    “Triple O7 at your service my love. Hold on!”

  • Heartache

    By Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris

    dreamscape.com

    An ache awakens so deep
    so unquestionably profound
    it tramples physical pain
    into near non-existence

    A lover drives away dust swirling
    next interlude unknown to each
    the ache begins deep within the heart
    where he is held quietly and secretly

    Ache expands and explicates
    watching the moving van lumber
    down the neighborhood street
    taking a best friend far away

    A child once innocent and sweet
    grown into a rapacious adult
    her countenance distant and cold
    the swelling ache unsustainable

    Sitting alone in a darkened room
    heartache devours the soul
    leaves behind an aged empty shell
    so much heartache left there now