Birdseed (exact drabble)

Flashback April

L M Dee

bsedBirdseed

“If you’re so hard up then why do you buy birdseed?” he asks, puzzled.

“Because it’s relatively inexpensive for the benefits I get. I put a handful out every day,” she says. “And the birds come and eat it. Pigeons, blackbirds, robins, sparrows, and crows. They wait for me now, eager each morning. I get to watch them peck at the seed. I know some are nesting in the nearby bushes. It gives me a sense of communion with nature. I know it’s a small thing and hardly earth changing. But it makes me feel useful. As if I matter.”

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Exact Drabble: Waiting for the Rain

Flashback April reblog of a drabble

L M Dee

selective focus photo of obalte green leafed plants during rain Photo by Bibhukalyan Acharya on Pexels.com

An exact drabble (100 words) for #writingwednesday.

The rain didn’t come on Monday. He filled the watering can and watered the flowers, herbs, and vegetables.

The rain didn’t come on Tuesday. After watering, he filled up the bird bath. A sparrow soon came for a tiny sip.

The rain didn’t come on Wednesday. The south-easterly wind pushed the clouds away, leaving only sweltering heat. The grass was turning brown, and even the hardy wildflowers in the wild corner of the garden were beginning to wilt.

The rain came on Friday, finally, just as he began filling the watering can.

He laughed and let the rain water him.

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Fic: Eye of the Beholder

Repost of #writingwednesday, dialogue only ficlet from 2018.

L M Dee

eyebehold

Summary: One person’s art is another person’s rubbish.
Previously posted to a personal journal for the 30 days of fiction meme prompt #5 write a scene entirely in dialogue

“It’s a very interesting piece.”

“Interesting? How?”

“Well…it’s symbolic. Probably.”

“Of?”

“I don’t know. Stuff. Things that other things are symbolic of.”

“Oh, that’s deep. Unlike the colours.”

“It’s a watercolour. That’s actually a more difficult medium than oils, you know.”

“Incredibly difficult by the look of this.”

“It’s…abstract.”

“Putting it mildly.”

“I mean that it has few connotations beyond what you, as the viewer, bring to it. It allows you to form your own opinion on the piece and any themes within it.”

“I see. I have an opinion.”

“Yes?”

“It looks like a four year old painted it and then the cat piddled on it.”

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Drabble: An Evening Stroll

Reblog for Flashback April.

L M Dee

 fic: an evening stroll>

Title: An Evening Stroll
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 100
Content Notes: No standard warnings apply.

I leap atop the fence and stalk my way across the narrow beams, graceful as an Olympic gymnast. The moon lights my way, but I see perfectly well in the dark. I stretch and drop soundlessly to the ground.

I pad around my territory, damp grass brushing my whiskers and wetting my paws. The evening’s scents tickle my nose. Eager to taste the aromas I open my mouth in what looks like a smile.

A moth flutters past. I chase it, partly for fun, mostly from instinct. It gets away. I yawn, languidly. I didn’t want to catch it anyway.

-/-/-

Notes:

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Poem: wouldn’t it be different — M. Sakran’s blog of and about poetry and poetry related things

Wouldn’t it be different if they sold poetry through T.V. commercials? Imagine getting two haiku for the price of one, or an extra sonnet if you call in the next five minutes. Think of the testimonials of people saying how happy their rondeau has made them or how easy it was to use the limerick […]

via Poem: wouldn’t it be different — M. Sakran’s blog of and about poetry and poetry related things

Great What If poem, go check it out!