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Rated: 18+ · Book · Writing · #2338096

Brief prose and poetry lacking other categories...

Basically anything under 1k or 500 words that's not a Drabble, an Express It in Eight, or a Promptly Poetry. Enjoy *Smile*

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July 11, 2025 at 2:25pm
July 11, 2025 at 2:25pm
#1093235
Eight-year-old Liberty watched raindrops chasing each other down the windowpane. Steady rainfall drummed overhead. She pulled back as lightning split the sky, followed by a rolling boom of thunder.

“Are we safe, Mrs. Fields?”

The lady running the orphanage stood nearby, taping up red, white and blue banners.

“Yes, Libby.” She guided the little girl away from the glass.

“Will my new parents still come to get me?”

“Of course they will, honey. Rain won't keep your family away. It may stop the evening fireworks, though.”

“I wanted to see them.” Her hazel eyes glimmered hopefully.

Mrs. Fields smoothed back Libby's blonde pageboy.

“You love sharing your birthday with the United States. It's double the fun. Soon, you'll have a third reason to celebrate.”

The thunderstorm tapered off late in the afternoon. Libby ran back and forth around the orphanage, checking the grandfather clock in the entry, peeking through every window, searching for her family.

“They'll be here soon.” Mrs. Fields handed Libby a broom. “Why don't you sweep to help soothe your jitters?”

Finally, as the first evening fireworks crackled, they arrived, with hugs and gifts. Mom wrapped her in a flag patterned blanket. Dad brought a funny tricorn hat for her to wear.

“Just in time to celebrate at the neighborhood cookout,” he said. “Let's go!”

They swung Libby between them as they strolled along the boardwalk. Sunset painted the waters pink and gold. They laughed, feeding seagulls with french fries.

“I love you, Mom and Dad.”

“We love you too, Liberty.”

Libby snuggled between her new parents, enjoying the sparkling jeweled lights spraying across the night sky. Someday, she would help other kids like her find loving families. For now, she was happy to celebrate her birthday, her adoption, and the founding of her homeland, all together.

Words: 300.
Written for "The Bard's Hall Contest" Open in new Window.
July Prompt:
Image for Bard's Hall Contest.

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July 5, 2025 at 12:50pm
July 5, 2025 at 12:50pm
#1092869
Fear not, He says, for I am with you.
How can I be sure of this?
My faith is weak.
I see words on the page, but they fail to resonate.
I lack the confidence and strength to believe
That life will work out, somehow,
Even if it doesn’t end well
Or disaster strikes and I lose everything,
God is with me, there is no need to fear.
This should be inner peace, not based on pleasant circumstances
But rooted in a knowledge of the Lord’s promises
And a childlike belief in them.
Such faith feels at times beyond my reach,
As self-composure so often melts down under pressure.
I pray for stronger faith, a positive outlook and a heart after God’s own.
He is Righteous: I entrust my soul to His Hands.

16 lines, 133 words.
Written for "SCRIPTURE POETRY CONTEST" Open in new Window.
Prompt: "Fear not, for I am with you; Be not dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, Yes, I will help you, I will uphold you with My righteous right hand." Isaiah 41:10


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July 5, 2025 at 11:59am
July 5, 2025 at 11:59am
#1092865
The heart is a willow tree: it lives, breathes, thrives,
Planted by flowing waters of crystal clear truth.
Growing strong in knowledge, trust, faith,
Enlivened by God our Father, who cares for everyone.
When I sleep, I dream I’m sitting under the willow tree,
Counting blessings floating downstream.
I stand up, chasing what I’ve suddenly realized is escaping me
Running along the slippery mud riverbank
Away from the willow, so green and alive.
Frantic, I plunge in where the water seems shallow,
Grabbing ahold of treasures sinking fast.
The truth of the matter almost drowns me:
Blessings are meant to be appreciated, not clung to.
A being in white throws me a lifeline, hauls me ashore,
Walks me back to that thriving willow tree,
Where I once more collapse, relaxing under its dappled shade.
With my feet in the water of crystal clear truth,
I contemplate life’s blessings, awakening to sunrise with newfound wisdom.

18 lines, 154 words.
Written for "Poetry Topic of the Month Contest" Open in new Window.
Prompt: “sitting under a willow tree.”
Inspired by Psalm 1.  Open in new Window.


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July 3, 2025 at 7:55am
July 3, 2025 at 7:55am
#1092716
They raise the flag with weary hands
Battles won in burning sands
Protecting home from evil ways
Standing strong throughout the days.
We honor them the way we should
For doing only what they could.
Let's not squander what they’ve done
Holding fast to all as one.
Treasure freedom to live and breathe
To practice all what each believes.
We raise their flag with grateful hands
A welcome home from distant lands.

12 lines, 72 words.
Written for "Honoring Our Veterans - Challenge" Open in new Window.


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July 21, 2025 at 7:34am
July 21, 2025 at 7:34am
#1093818
Donnie Duck wiggled in the backseat of his mom and dad's overstuffed dune buggy. He poked at his older brother Ronnie, who was playing a noisy video game on his phone.

“Mom, can we stop? Ronnie woke up Daisy, and now she needs to use the bathroom.”

Little Daisy made a cranky squealing sound and flapped her wings in her car seat, knocking the phone out of Ronnie's hands. The teenager groaned, diving to the floor to retrieve it and bumping into Donnie, who let out an even louder groan.

“Hey kids, settle down.” Dad looked in the rearview mirror to investigate matters. “There's an exit soon. After a quick break, we'll be on the final stretch to the beach. Ronnie, have you been checking Google Maps?”

“No, I've been playing Shenzhen Invasion. I'm on Level 109!”

Dad clucked, returning his eyes to the road.

“You'll melt your brain with that gaming nonsense. Donnie, are you keeping track of our route using the paper map?”

“Yeah, actually.” Donnie straightened up in his seat, spreading out the state map on his lap and tracing a finger across it. “We’re approaching Exit 219, at Green Valley. The beach is another thirty miles away, or three more exits.”

“Excellent. You'll get an ice cream cone when we stop.”

“Hey!” Ronnie put down his phone. “Do I get one?”

“Ronnie, you need to learn to pay attention to real life. You have to pull yourself away from the screen every once in a while, or you'll be a zombie.”

“What's wrong with that? I play zombies all the time in Dead Man's Escape!”

Donnie started laughing and flapped a wing at his brother. Daisy squawked as if she wanted to laugh too. Now it was Dad's turn to groan. Mom shook her head, closing her paperback book.

“We're not saying it's wrong to play video games, hon. We're just trying to help you know when it's the appropriate time for gaming.”

“That's not fair! I want an ice cream cone too.”

“Can you stay off the phone until we get to the exit?” Mom asked.

“I'll try.”

Ronnie sighed and stuffed the phone in his backpack. He leaned over to pull the map away from Donnie. It tore down one of the worn fold lines, splitting in half.

“Great. Now neither of us will know where we are.”

“It's ok, we can still use it.”

They spent the next ten minutes studying the map: pointing out icons, decoding symbols on the legend, arguing over where they were, and calculating the distances between various towns.

***


A couple hours later, the Duck family arrived at the beach. Ronnie and Donnie helped unload surfboards, coolers, umbrellas, and piles of beach gear out from the dune buggy as seagulls soared and screeched overhead. Waves crashed against the dunes, sending up wafts of tangy salt wind.

“Cool place, huh?” Donnie said to his older brother. “That ice cream was nice. I bet you're glad you got to have it too.”

“Yeah.”

Ronnie set his backpack down on a striped blanket and pulled his phone out. He stood frowning at the screen for a few minutes, trying to see past the glare of sunlight. Then he let out a wail.

“There's no signal here! Now what?”

Dad ignored him and focused on pegging down a jumbo umbrella. Mom adjusted the dials on an old-fashioned radio, bringing in a classical music station. She smiled at Ronnie, who was nearly in tears.

“How about living life unplugged for a few hours, son? You'll appreciate it. There's so much to get excited about. This is a wildlife sanctuary.”

“I brought a field guide to shoreline animals and plants.” Donnie waved a chunky book in the air. “Look, I want to see a real live plover while we're here.”

Ronnie wiggled his beak and peered at the handbook. He soon lost interest and tried to pick up a signal again, wandering off to stand on a dune and point the phone in all directions.

Mom and Dad arranged a picnic under the umbrella. Donnie ran along the seashore, stopping to pick up and identify seashells. Then,

“Daisy! Where is she?”

Ronnie ended up quite a bit away from his family in his search for a cell signal. He heard them calling for Daisy and looked down the slope to see them fanning out desperately.

“Uh-oh,” he mumbled, stuffing his phone in his pocket. “Guess I should've been keeping an eye on her. Yikes.”

From his elevated vantage point, he spotted his little sister toddling away, almost disappearing into thickets of brush and sea grasses. He heaved a sigh and started flapping until he rose and coasted downhill, quacking out her name. When he caught up with her, she was sitting in the sand, playing with bits of glass and pebbles.

“No, don't put that in your mouth! Come on, let's go back to Mommy and Daddy, ok?”

He bent down, took her by the wing and led her along the coastline towards the picnic area. They stopped to watch a flock of sandpipers poking their skinny beaks in the mud. Ronnie reflected that it was probably a good thing his phone was out of service. There did seem to be a lot of fun to be had outdoors. And besides, it was best to keep a good head on his shoulders in such unfamiliar territory. Shenzhen Invasion could wait until he got back home, or at least until the family was safe in a hotel room for the evening.

Happy that he had come to this conclusion on his own, he waved at Donnie and his parents from a few yards back.

“Ronnie! Daisy! We were in a panic about both of you.” Mom wrapped them both up in her wings.

“Aw, I was fine. Daisy was trying to eat dirt, as usual.”

She let out a protesting quack and held up a pretty pink seashell. Dad patted Ronnie's shoulder.

“I'm glad you were focused enough to take control and find your baby sister. Don't you feel better than if you were playing games the whole time?”

Ronnie shrugged.

“Sure. Hey, what's my reward gonna be? I'm expecting like, maybe a whole pizza all to myself.”

“No fair!” Donnie shouted. “I'm the one who spent more time looking for Daisy! I bet she wasn't even lost. You had her with you the whole time.”

“Did not! I had to fly half a mile to catch her before she got swept into the sea.”

“Enough of that.” Dad's voice was stern. “We came here to have fun, not to argue. You'll each get half a pizza, customized. Now let's sit down and have our picnic before the seagulls eat it for us.”

“Afterwards, we can build sandcastles,” Mom said, holding up a handful of mini flags.

“Sounds good to me,” Ronnie chuckled. He was beginning to enjoy himself.

Words: 1150.
Written for "Writing 4 Kids" Open in new Window.
Prompt:


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Printed from https://web1.writing.com/main/books/item_id/2338096-Angel-Feathers/month/7-1-2025