Picture It & Write: Once Upon a Cloud

Once Upon a Cloud

How He wished he could part of that world, the sounds of traffic, the bustling footsteps of hurried peoples, the numerous smells from all corners mixing as one and the spreading out again and the tall structures with their outrageous design reaching up to the sky. They were all blissful to him; he could sit up in the sky for hours and never blink for fear of missing something. Oh how he wished he could experience it all.

When will there be a day where he wasn’t busy rallying the young cloud-dust whom would much rather change shapes than be still or prepare a new weather cloud for another day or be in his office buried in paperwork,

overlooking statements from other cloud-watchers worldwide? Would there be a day where he would wake up in a non-translucent form among the race he feels closely connected to? He knows that the others like him do not think the way he does. They are content and happy, and they say the world of man is filled with much disappointment that we up in the clouds should never stray away from out heaven.

Even if it felt more like hell, was it truly worth staying he wondered but never out loud. These were his personal confessions he carried with himself each time he snuck away to watch over the world so close but far from him. The world which makes him feel much more than just a cloud.

The world in which he is finally free.

This is Meli‘s Entry to this week’s Picture it and Write prompt hosted by Ermiliablog!
Enjoy and join in on the fun! :)

For Sam’s submission click [here].

Until Next time


Picture It & Write

Tonight? The hours belonged to the dead.

There were rumours that she had a troubled hand. Whisking through the old ways; dark magic. Some said that she met and plotted with the fairies and goblins, deep in the forest where it became too dark to tell when sunlight poured in. Others believed that she sold her soul. No one ever knew for sure just how she knew to do the things that she could. Not even Tomas, but he loved her dearly anyway. And she- him. Until the day he died, hanged for a crime he did not commit. That day, she went a little mad. Her heartbroken cries echoed through the town for a full day. As most of the town crowded Sir Lynden’s family estate, I remembered hours earlier when she had stood in the middle of the square, chaos and destruction running through her veins.

“You’ll pay.” She sneered. “Every last one.”

No one had believed her. Even now, no one knew what to make of this. That this night, the dead walked the streets. Some had given in, not caring of the unnaturalness of it. Simply wanting the second chance that seemed to be granted. This was not such. We’ve lost some. More. It was not love, or making up for lost time that urged the deceased on. It was a like madness to her own. A sudden power. She had brought the dead back to life and they wanted revenge. For what, I can’t be sure.

Hurriedly, all the doors and windows were boarded up. Mama tried to talk Papa out of gathering a small army. Some, people I’ve known since my four years searched the house for as many weapons as they could find. Others prayed. I watched her, before the last of the windows was closed off. She glided through the street, past terrible unspeakables as if none of it could ever touch her. None of it would soil her dress. The screams of terror as the city burned, flowing with fresh streams of blood. They would never deter her. I held my breath as she walked past me with a dazed look in her eyes. A demented smile tugged at her lips.

“Tomas?” she called out. “my love, where are you?”

Contribution by: Sasha

Picture it & Write is a weekly writing prompt from ErmiliaBlog. Be sure to send them some love and if the prompt calls out to you, join in on the fun!

Picture It & Write: Just A Little Kiss

Meli’s Entry:

Just a little Kiss

She was the tease in your dreams, the one girl you let get away, the one who you didn’t even know you existed, but once you find her…you’ll just keep coming for more. To reach what use to be within your grasp and to satisfied a deep hunger for human flesh.
It was pleasure for them and business for her.

Each night before having to sprinkle on the glitter, put on the most scandalous of clothing, and layering that delicious color of sin on her lips she looks up at the stars and pretends she was miles away from it all. She looks tired, older, as if tonight is her last night and she no longer has the will to dance again.
She likes to pretend that there was more to life. That she was more than just what this nightlife entailed. That she wasn’t the daughter who somebody just forgot in the red light district, and was brought up learning all of life’s lessons at an early age. She’s still a romantic, she still thinks someone will come and rescue from hell and that she was going to start another life far from all this. Of course, when you see her as most people do up on that stage, that frail young dreamer is not there—no instead the young woman you see is tantalizing, exotic and full of confidence. She has presence, beautiful and all who watch her know that there is no one like her.

So until she can get away she will continue to be that other girl. The one who before each performance douses herself with expensive perfume and if you’re lucky and willing to get a more personal view—yes you can get a kiss…just a little kiss and it’s enough to give you a craving that no Cuban cigar can fix.

And as she walks towards me and sends me a flirty grin we both know the show must go on.

– Meli

This is my contribution to this week’s Picture it & Write at Ermiliablog

Picture it & Write

Sasha’s Entry:

With trembling hands, Nora reached for the crumpled pack of cigarettes in her purse. She’d had them for little over a week now. She hadn’t felt a need to light one, but had bought them on a whim. Until now. She hadn’t seen him in months. It felt like years had skittered passed, careless of the aging lives they left in their wake.

Without a second thought, she shoved the white cylinder between her lips.

“I thought you quit.”

Nora didn’t have to look up to know who it was. She knew. She wished she didn’t, but you couldn’t undo the past. Could you? “Quitting is for quitters.” she said before lighting up. Instantly, the bittersweet fingertips of the tobacco tickled her lungs.

“I didn’t think that you’d show.”

“Me either.”

“So,” he slid into the booth opposite her, eyes never leaving her own. “How are you?”

“What do you want James?”

A frown marred his lips. “I wanted to see you.” He leaned forward as he swept a few stray curls behind her ear, letting the pad of his thumb brush against the side of her neck. “I miss you.”

She swatted his hand away. Wrapping her arm around herself tightly, she sat back in her chair and stared down at the lipstick stain on the rim of her coffee cup. Her cigarette dangled, almost completely forgotten from her index and thumb. The tip burned on. The ashes fluttering to the table top helplessly. She didn’t look up at him when she asked, “What do you miss?”
“Everything.” When he noticed the roll of her eyes, he barrelled on. “I miss the way you laugh. The way you bite your nails when you get nervous. The way your hair mats to your head when you just get out of the shower. I miss the way your red lipstick would smudge when I kissed you. I miss when you would cling to me as you slept. I could protect you from anything.”

After a moment, she looked up at him. She was the same Nora he’d always known. Fun loving, delicate Nora was there somewhere. Lost. But she was there. When she spoke, he had hoped that she would tell him how much she missed him too. How she loved him. In those few short seconds, he had never wished for anything more.

“You have a wife to feel all those things. Have you forgotten?” Nora sighed tiredly, raising the cigarette to her lips. She inhaled one long last haul, not caring whether he liked it or not. Exhale. The world became the home of smoke screens. Birthed from ruby red lips, going off into the universe to discover truths and lies that needed shielding.

“Please,” James begged. He cradled a her hand in his own. When she made a move to pull away, he only held on tighter. “Please don’t act like this.”

“Act like what?”

“Like it didn’t mean anything.”

“It meant something. Is that what you want me to say?” James opened his mouth to speak, but Nora cut him off. “It did. It meant the world to me. I didn’t think something like that could ever happen to me, that I could fall in love like that- with you. But I did. I loved every second I had with you. I loved you. The good and the bad.”

“Then why did you leave? If you could love the bad, why didn’t you stay?”

“Why didn’t you leave?” Tears swelled in her eyes. Nora pulled her hands free, accidently knocking over the salt shaker. Tiny grains skittered out like unsaid words escaping from timid subconsciences at last. “I wasn’t about to become the woman who continued to hope that the man that she’s in love with would someday leave his wife for her. I didn’t want to love you from far away. If we were meant to be together, shouldn’t it be freely and honestly? Don’t I deserve to be happy?”

“And are you?” He asked quietly, running his hands through a mop of dark hair. “Happy?”

“No. No, I’m not. But I’m hopeful that one day I’ll wake up and it won’t be this painful.”

A moment of silence passed over them, neither comforting or awkward. A simple silence that offered them mere moments to collect their thoughts. To retrace memories in the back of their minds and remember the wonderful. The bustle of the diner buzzed around them loudly. The clanking of dishes from the kitchen, customers gorging on their pancake breakfasts over morning gossip. Someone laughed loudly in the booth next to theirs. “Liza and I are getting a divorce.”

“Are you?” she said. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t be sorry. I want you to be delighted.”

“This hasn’t got anything to do with me James.”

“It’s got everything to do with you!” A few patrons looked in their direction with wide curious eyes. James ducked his head, lowering his voice to almost a whisper. “Haven’t you been listening?”

“Is that why you asked me here? To tell me that?” Shaking her head, she added, “It won’t change anything.”

“I’m in love with you.”

“Sometimes it’s not enough.” Gathering her purse, Nora left a couple of bucks on the table to pay for her caffeine. “I…” she started to say, but swallowed down the sudden feeling of sadness. “Take care of yourself.” Without looking back, she left him sitting in a crumpled heap. Head in his hands, desperation in his heart and love- invisible, circling around them until the last of it faded with time.


This is my contribution to this week’s Picture it & Write at Ermiliablog