Who can argue with a headache?
It's pointless.
Try not to let it draw you in
past the safe limits of your own senses,
towards a split psyche, a fragmented heart
Tunnels of memory,
the scent of pine,
crunching gravel beneath my feet,
the sound of approaching death,
My skin will peel away like thin paper
translucent, crumbling
I remember his gait
stiff, then unsteady,
then finally, weakened beyond repair.
He wanted to walk home,
offered his best imitation of someone
who believed, and then gave into the final
puke of life,
carried away on silent goodbyes.
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Another piece of flash from prompts... this one from Meg Pokrass at Flash Fiction Highway, using the following words:
headache, pine, gravel, puke, argue, gait, tunnels, draw, peel
It turned out to be a poem.
I would love some constructive criticism on this piece...
Good writing Deborah! Constructive criticism? Possibly replace "puke" with another image that is in better keeping with your otherwise elegant writing in this piece and more befitting of the dignity that can be part of dying. The prompt gets the wheels turning. But once that piece takes on a life of its own all bets are off and it's totally OK to leave the prompt waving goodby on the pier as your ship sails away. Great stuff. Keep it coming! *
Michael. Thank you for that. I am doing much more writing from prompts these days, and you are right to point out that the piece does take on its own identity once it has been birthed, and deserves to sail on its own. I find that each stage of exploration on these creative pieces requires another leap of faith... mostly, it gets easier as I go along, but we all know it's not a clear shot... Thank you SO MUCH for your support! :)