Day 8: Ticket to the Moon

Logan Zillmer Photography

I gave my heart

It was all I had left to give.

When things fell apart,

It was my last card against grief.

I gave it my best,

I have done all I should have done;

I passed the test,

And the rest of the deal is God’s.

I played my game.

I threw my best shot and hit home.

I lit a flame

But the wind had issues with the glow.

I made last plans,

It was all I could think to do.

I made them grand,

And got my ticket to the moon.

Akpan

Day 8: Shudder at the Memory

Phenomena.NationalGeographic.Com

The wind is blowing.

Rearranging all I ever believed in.

I still shudder at the memory

As I remember the pained losses.

My heart is filled

With an abundance of drought.

I progress in a solitary rust.

Times have changed,

Churning and churning like milk turning cheese,

Fluttering away like that fabled winged chariot,

Leaving desolation behind in its trail.

Storm clouds gather like 10,000 samurai knights

Passionately sousing my moments and my days

With evil's delight.

In vain I've awaited the sun after the rain

The climax is delayed.

I view my world thro the eye of the hurricane

The dreaded symptoms rustle the lilies

I can only hope; pray for strength to take it

All in my stride.

I thrust my head away from my wounded pride

Bitching like a broken bride,

Betrayed on her wedding night.

Akpan

IntShoWriMo 2014: Day 8

Day 8: King’s Law

Today’s Prompt: “Forgiveness is not an occasional act, it is a constant attitude,” said Martin Luther King Jr. imagine a character who needs to forgive someone. Who does he or she need to forgive? What was the nature of the injury? What were its implications? Does forgiveness come easily to your character or is retaliation a more natural impulse? Does your character try and fail to forgive initially? See how your character’s desire to forgive creates obstacles and ultimately, fuels your plot.

— Courtesy: PW.Org

Word Count: 1,152

            “He ought to have known better. It’s supposed to be his job.”

No answer.

            “Damn, I should have killed him on the spot. I should, too.”

            “It would have increased the fatality by one. That’s bad arithmetic.”

            “It’s good equation, though. It is too, considering who’s involved. Leaving him alive creates a chemical imbalance.”

He rolled off the bed and walked around the room in an arc heaving heavy sighs. He turned around abruptly, retraced his steps and sat on the edge of the bed.

            “You can’t resolve this issue with a mathematical formula.”

            “My point,” he said. “Is I didn’t fulfill my obligations to him.” He stabbed the pendant lying in a tangle beside the bedside lamp.

            “Let it rest now.” She reached out and touched his hand. “Come to bed.”

He took her hand in his but kept his back turned to her.

            “You know what, everyday I remember that cussed day, every night the memory of it weighs down on me, and I feel like I played the role of the actor who forgot his lines at the defining moment of the play. The jerk who ended the play before it truly ended.”

She remained quiet. She’d heard those lines rehashed over and over again these past months she might as well live in an echo chamber. Read More Here: IntShoWriMo 2014

Eneh Akpan

June 8th, 2014

IntShoWriMo 2013: DAY 8

Courtesy: Wikipedia

Today’s Prompt:

You are at the neighborhood garage sale, looking for nothing in particular. Something inside an old, wooden box catches your eye. The old woman who is running the sale comes over to say something about the object. What is it? What did she say and why?

Courtesy: writersdigest.com

Link for Day 8: DAY 8: Yard Sale Word Count: 2,122

Imagine stopping by a yard sale and spotting an old wooden box, which touches a chord. You walk up to it and lift the lid. There’s a bunch of odd-looking keys inside and nothing else. Just a bunch of ancient-looking keys is all. So, of course, you decide to put an egg in your shoes and beat it. But not before being enlightened by the old crone running the show. She picks the keys out of the box, tells you it’s value, cheap and offers to sell you the thing, which she claims opens doors.

What else is new?

But hey! Who needs the keys to some ancient castle that’s probably converted to an archeological site, by now?

You tell granny, “Thanks, but no thanks.” Hell, I’d do the same thing.

Next thing you know, you’re home and turning the lock to go into your apartment and right there in your hands is the odd bunch of keys from the yard sale, opening the door to your house. You don’t recall taking it from the old woman not to mention, paying for ‘em.

Broadus, the main character in this story, shows you why a yard sale should not be an alternative for window-shopping.

Read the full story here, DAY 8: Yard Sale

Keep your pen bleeding.

Akpan

Day 8: Hope Triumphs Still

Photo: realityandhope.com

For Mandela

Hope triumphs still.

Even when sailin’ on thro a fog, he’s the chieftain of his own domain.

He’s like an athlete stoned on a rush of adrenalin.

Hope’s endowed with a tendency to reach beyond this terrestrial plane.

Hope ain’t a reward received when you accomplish your goals;

Hope is the vibe which drives your goals and keeps the forces of change on their toes;

Channels all the positive influence at your disposal.

When nightfall breaches your perimeter,

Hope trundles on with a fierce urgency.

When your strength trickles off in days of adversity

Hope triumphs still.

Life’s support system when the dam breaks;

Hope never fails.

In the darkest corner of insensate despair,

Hope is the voice crying out to deal out repair.

In the morning light, when terrors from nightmares invade your privacy;

In the face of impregnable foe when skepticism ruins your fantasy;

Hope says, “You are going thro so you can come out.

“Here’s my hand, you can make it if you choose not to stay down.”

Take this magic and ignite your private lil’ world.

Truth will come crashing home after you pass thro the eye of the storm.

Hope triumphs still.

When fear rocks the earth to its very foundations,

You can count on a hopeful outlook to be your aileron.

Remember to set your eyes where rut and decay can’t hold a candle to it.

Striving above your ability means tackling the issue till you achieve.

Be strong in your heart. Keep your eyes peeled for the light at the end of the tunnel.

And when you find it, make a break for it.

Every good thing will come to you on the threshold of faith. Come fire, come hell.

When life’s being bitchy grab it by the lapel and say, “I ain’t done with you.”

Then pick up the pieces, dust off your butt and push on through.

Somebody’s looking out for you and all he wants is for you to understand

Hope triumphs still.

When opposition outguns you and you’re stranded without a plan,

Give ‘em the fight of your life. You’ve been placed there for a reason.

Thrive beyond your limits; train the heat on adversary thro your mental prism.

Every time you lift your head from under a burden, it’s a declaration of victory:

Hope triumphs still.

Akpan