“Prosery is the latest addition to the dVerse universe. This is the fourth prosery prompt. If you’re not yet acquainted with the dVerse term, let me explain. It is a flash fiction (of any genre) that incorporates a line from a poem—prose from poetry! It must be no more than 144 words. The line of the poem is “These memories were left here with the trees”
All the years we spent pretending that somehow it would all work out. We’d be together, you & me. You’d promised to leave Estelle when the kids were old enough. I pretended to believe you until I finally did. And so I waited. I waited even after your kids had kids of their own. Our unborn children waited with me. Eventually though, their little souls grew tired and they moved on.
O, how I loved our champagne and moonlight trysts! Right over there beneath that weeping willow. Remember the time you were going to carve our initials its trunk? But I wouldn’t let you for fear of hurting it.
Now I wish I hadn’t stopped you. Damn it! What I wouldn’t give…but it was not to be.
These memories live here with the trees; memories of the life we almost had.
It is First Line Friday at the Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie blog. Today’s first line is The elevator stopped on the thirteenth floor with a lurch.
The elevator stopped on the thirteenth floor with a lurch. This was nothing new, actually, since the old elevator gave a jostling lurch on every floor at which it stopped.
Anyway, the doors slid open with a mournful scrape and I stepped into my hallway. It’s my hallway because I am the only resident on floor #13. I took a deep breath and let my lungs fill with that fabulous musty, stagnant air.
Damn, it’s good to be home!
I smiled as I rattled my key around in the rusty, old doorknob lock until it finally opened.
You know, there are a lot of plusses to living on the 13th floor. First off, the JoeBubba’s Witnessesnever come around peddling their pamphlets. In fact, there are virtually no solicitors. And when Hallowe’en rolls around the kids give my place a wide berth.
One of the things I like best about living on floor #13 is the peace and quiet. No neighbors partying, fighting, moving in & out, borrowing a cup of sugar and all the other annoying things neighbors do. Of course, my rent is a good $100 or so cheaper than that of my lower-living residents, too. You know, it’s never been raised since I moved in during the early 1990s. Not many people can say that! The landlords never even come up here. If something breaks the maintenance man is in & out before I know it.
It’s a good thing too, because if he spent any amount of time in here, he’d surely find the bodies.
The unicorn wandered alone in the Elysian Fields where he lived. Without a doubt, the fields were beyond exquisite; no other place on the planet came close to its rare and dazzling beauty: 3D rainbows, turquoise-blue skies, ice-silver lakes and streams, and daisies and sunflowers shiny with dewdrops decorating the lush, emerald-green grass.
There was only one problem; Germain the Unicorn was lonely. He was one of a kind and therefore, had nothing in common with any other species. He’d tried hanging out with horses, but they just couldn’t get past the horn sticking out of his forehead. When Germain would pass gas, as all creatures do, his took the form of a glittery rainbow and smelled of potpourri. The horses got a big charge out of that, and made fun of him–telling him to go open up a perfume shop, or to peddle his rainbows somewhere else. And so, Germain would saunter away, his head hanging in shame.
One day, a nymph came to visit Germain. She found him near a grove of oak trees. Not wishing to startle him, she softly called his name. He looked around and saw her perched on a tree branch; she was no bigger than a leaf.
He looked at her quizzically and asked, “Are you a faery?”
“I get that a lot,” she replied. “I’m a nymph. Dryad’s the name.”
“Pleased to meet you, Dryad.”
“Likewise, Germain. Now, tell me why are you so sad? What is bedeviling you?”
“I’m lonely,” he sighed. “I live in this beautiful place all alone, with no one to talk to or share it with. I have to wonder what is the point of it all. I mean, big deal: I fart glittery rainbows that smell nice. What fun is that when nobody gets it?”
“Understood,” Dryad nodded. “What you need is a unicorn friend.”
“That would be awesome, but is it possible? Aren’t I supposed to be the only one of my kind?”
“Well, initially yes,” Dryad thought for a moment. “But some rules are made to be broken and I say this is one of them!”
“You mean it?! For real?”
“It will take a few days to arrange, but try to be patient. You will have a friend.”
And just like that, Dryad was gone. It was all so sudden and unexpected that Germain feared that perhaps he’d been dreaming. Yet, he hoped for the best; every day he looked for a friend to appear.
Several days had passed and Germain was nearly convinced that the whole Dryad thing had been a dream, and that he would be forever friendless.
And then one day as he was getting a drink of water from a stream, another reflection appeared next to his own. The likeness was uncanny! The only difference was that this new unicorn had longer eyelashes and forelocks, and the horn was pink.
I bet it’s a girl! Oh, boy!
The new unicorn grinned and slowly, a glittering rainbow began to form behind her.
Ergo, the Ogre 