Friday Fictioneers – The Walkway to Nowhere!

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Photograph: Copyright Adam Ickes ©

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The Walkway to Nowhere!

The raised passageway was built from wood locally grown and hewed. The builder had provided the wood at no cost. Locals were surprised by his generosity! There was talk!

“Henry, have you been on the walkway recently?” She asked, handing him his morning cup of beverage.

“Nope.” He replied. “Haven’t been there since I finished building it. Why?”

“Well, I know you were against it’s construction and now there are reports of visiting folks going missing there.”

Henry the Sorcerer, appeared to contemplate her news while drinking in a deep satisfying gulp of his special wetlands brew.

“Hmmm” He said contentedly!

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It’s been awhile since I’ve spent time with the Friday Fictioneers. The writers there, whose stories (of approximately 100 words) always make for a good read , are lead by the gracious and talented hostess Rochelle. For more information on how you can become a Friday Fictioneer or just spend some time reading other author’s creative musings, click here!

Have a great day,

Penny

Ligo Haibun Challenge – Challenge yourself!

Summer is a busy time for many us, and with this – can come delays, as has been the case with the crew of the Ligo Haibun Challenge. Thank you for your patience, to those with entries. I have been reading all of the entrants for the past week and will be returning to comment on each.

A quandry, for me, these last few months has been picking honorable mentions – increasingly difficult because, point in fact, there are more than just a few good ones.

It is my opinion that each of you deserve honorable mentions. The very individualistic quality of each entry, the beautiful expressions of some, the unique perspective of others, the close-up realism of still others – while adhering to the haibun and haiku style and criteria, lends itself to (honestly) my personal inability to pick one over the other.

I am pleased that honorable mentions will happen monthly now. This means judging will be based on a body of your work. A new challenge each week, honorable mentions – once a month!

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There are two words to chose from for this week’s Ligo Haibun Challenge!

“Oblivion” or “Morning Glory” 

I would love to see lots of entrants to this week’s Challenge.

Get started, all you writers out there – I want to enjoy reading more wonderful haibun from all of you. Need more information?  Click here! And don’t forget, we are in the planning stages of putting together a haibun ebook (and with your permission) yours may be in there, too! Being published is always a good thing!

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Good luck, thanks for entering and/or being a dedicated reader of the haibun/haiku writing style and therefore … becoming a Haibuner like myself,

~ Penny

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Alastairs Photo Fiction – If Idols could cry

photography copyright Alastair Forbes

The Idol

Lovingly carved by my human creator, I stand posed in quiet contemplation on a shelf, in a room, in a house. My permanently, etched eyes “wide open” watching life take place around me.

Removed from my birth home, from where my body originated, I am far from the natural elements of nature’s flow, and yet it still survives within me. So it is now, with great sadness, that I silent and helplessly watch the hardships humanity lay upon themselves; confronting each other and their own selves, but without the nourishing rhythm and balance of nature – that they now willfully deny, much as wayward children not wanting to learn life’s important lessons.

I watch as they try and fail to come to terms with their errors of judgement, losing their precious connections to one another and to mother nature herself, even as they (with sometimes innocent intent) tear down the very infrastructure that lead to their existence and survival as a species.

I can see so very clearly and there is a great sadness within me as I sit on this shelf in solitary confinement. If I could, I would cry. But my tears would not be seen, either.

Penny L Howe, 2013

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Yes definitely way over the 150 word limit, But I am hopeful this short written piece is still one you will find an interesting read. To join Alastair’s Photo Fiction writing challenge, (who’s weekly prompt is one of his wonderful photographs), click here! Go for it – you’ll have fun!

~ Penny

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Today and all our tomorrows?

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Today and all our … tomorrows?

One morning a child of indiscriminate age woke early, washed her face, combed her hair and file0002019869674dressed herself in a simple cotton outfit. She broke her fast and then walked a short distance to the shoreline of a nearby ocean.

Carefully she picked a spot in the damp sand and sat not farfile000251559569 from where the ocean’s outgoing tide could curl about her toes if she were to stretch out her legs.

And then she sat and watched.

She watched the sun rise slowly into the clear blue sky. She file0001906036738watched as it drifted overhead brightening the day with golden rays shining through bits and pieces of white fluffy clouds and then with majestic colors settle into the evening.

She watched twinkling stars come to life, one by one, with the darkening of night’s sky. She watched the moon rise, higher and higher until it finally began to settle down again into the coolfile0001317022358 predawn morning and the sun began to rise once again.

As the sun rose she stood up, carefully brushing off sand covered clothing, and began the walk to her home not far away.

file251341936484She passed an older gentleman who, in amazement, had watched her sentinel performance during the previous day and night.

It had been said by a few locals that she had “the sight” and could see into the future. Generally speaking, people thought of her as a sweet but odd sort of child and thought no more about it.

As she passed him, he raised his hand to slow her passage and asked her “Why did you do this?”

“Were you afraid the sun would not rise again?”

“Were you worried that the night would never end?”

“Why?” He asked more insistently. “I must know.”

The child slowed her walk almost to a stop and looked up into his worried eyes with a peaceful serenity he had never seen before. She reached out and gently held his large gnarled hands with her small ones.

Her gaze never wavered from his eyes as a slow but sad smile broke the features on her face. She answered him. “Because I still can!”

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~ Penny L Howe

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