When the world falls prey to itself (yet again), what do you do? You hold onto your own kernel of undeniable truth, no matter how small, and you polish it. Build it layer by tiny layer with every act and indication around you that demonstrates reason, kindness, and indefatigable courage. Look for them; they’re there. They’ve always been there. History tells us this, too.
Just my thoughts about the events of last night.
Once
There was nothing more.
It built into nothing more
Than astonishing.
© Nadia Brown
There was always a shift in the air before the white stag appeared. A silver-edged dissonance that ran up her spine and made her temples throb. This time was no different. As she stood, balancing the buckets she’d filled in the Lake, languid snowflakes began to fall, covering the graying grasses around her. It’s only once each year, she reassured herself. She tilted her head and caught her reflection in the water: two black eyes gazed back at her, framed by majestic, shimmering antlers. Where she’d stood, an emerald hue emerged within the grass, and it followed translucent footprints to the village.
© Nadia Brown
Glad to be participating in Sonya’s 3 Line Tales!
Photo by Rebecca Johnson
Embraced by shadow
All our light becomes a
Possibility
For Frank’s Tuesday Photo Challenge – Shadows
Well, this is cool. The Yellow Chair Review is a lovely online literary journal that publishes poetry, fiction, and nonfiction on a quarterly basis. Check it out! I am absolutely honoured to have one of my stories included in their latest Issue. You can read it here, if you like.
Here’s to a positive, creative, and productive day!
Words, unspoken,
Stain these hours
With a faintly marbled hue.
© Nadia Brown
Photo from Wallpaperfolder.com
The strangest of days
Emit a light
Not soon forgotten.
Hanging in the air
The sweet, raw smells of harvest
Fading in the sun
© Nadia Brown
Farm and country – and all the smells, textures, sounds that go along with them – are my happy place. Born and raised in the city, the constrained bustle of it has always felt confining; it’s never been ‘home’.
Thank you, Sonya, for this 3 Line Tales weekly photo prompt!
Photo by Emiel Molenaar, who has some gorgeous photos on his website!!
Fractured cowardice
Frayed edges of inertia
Dangling in the wind.
© Nadia Brown
There was always such exquisiteness in leaving; an aching tug that rose from the depths and made her smile against her will. She hesitated on the dock, boarding pass in hand, discerning the clinking buoys beneath the pier from the steady hum of the ferry’s engine. If she closed her eyes, she could feel the water tugging against the pier from below. The gentleness of wave against wood belied the force with which it would spit the dock from its moorings and send it ass over tea kettle into the Pacific. If it wanted to. For a moment, she stood in awe at the raw power she rarely questioned. The ocean that could silence a pier, a vessel, a life – lapped with a calm indifference at her feet. It was the indifference, she decided, that kept her coming back. Not this time. This time, she’d brought her things -and left him sleeping in a cloud of his own stupor.
Without a word, she settled her bag around her shoulders and headed to the ramp to board. Soon, the clinking of the buoys would fade amidst the chatter of morning commuters, disappearing completely as she waited in line to purchase her return.
© Nadia Brown
Check out 100 words or less‘s weekly “3 Line Tales” weekly photo prompt. Join in the fun!
Photo by Charlie Hang
Becoming Roots 