Posted in Prose, WAKING JAY'S MUSE: (Poetry & Prose)

SECOND ANNUAL SHOCK-O-RAMA SHOW (another hundred-word challenge)

… A PRE-HALLOWEEN TREAT PLUCKED FROM MY BAG O’ BOOTY ….        

bird cage feathers

A TRIUMPHANT MARLEY CHANSON casts the net of his soiled grin upon each of the waiting contestants, thinking, a bold, riveting presentation, Marley—a winner. Out of the opposing chair, “Squeaky” tumbles to her crown; her revolver, sliding from her lap, clatters beneath her. Beside Marley, Leslie—the next to perform—rises on wobbly legs, then spews a technicolor spiral, painting Chirpie’s open-doored cage, and spattering Marley’s left shoe and cuff.
 
       THE SERGEANT-AT-ARMS seethes. “Excessive Shockery!” He jerks Marley from his chair, avoiding his still-sticky fingers, and escorts him to the exit.
 
       MARLEY SWALLOWS BACK rising feathers and their coppery effluvia.

Posted in Prose, The Writer's Life, WAKING JAY'S MUSE: (Poetry & Prose)

OUT ON A LIMB FOR LOVE (a short story in 50 words)

out on limb

We’d laughed about it. They’ll come around. Onct it’s born, they’ll ‘cept me.

Suzie waits, bag packed.

Straddling the limb, I reach for her window.

She’s waving me away. Why? I lean.

Suzie’s Pa’s shotgun rams my chest. “Law pertects the homeowner ‘gainst trespassin’, niggah. And God—He fergives the Christian.”