Scribblings and scrawls of a hopeless romantic soul



Writers Quote Wednesday: Genius

Featured quote for Writer's Quote Wednesday

“Genius might be the ability to say a profound thing in a simple way.”

― Charles Bukowski

Genius. Who? Not me.

Today I would like us to celebrate the greatest, the genius Charles Bukowski. Bukowski is a German-American poet, novelist, and short story writer whose works are depictions of the downtrodden American social, cultural, and economic life. Known for his satiric and sometimes vulgar remarks, he has caught the interest of many (including me) with his crisp and clever style of writing.

I have read and re-read his poems but one can never get enough of them. He has a way of bringing poetry to the streets, to the masses. He is smart and mad intertwined. And much more. I’ve always wanted to follow  his style. To  say profound things in simple ways. But as of this time, it’s a work in progress.

How about you? What’s your writing style?

Happiest birthday, Bukowski!! ❤

Cold Feet

FF 3

His heart trembled like a quake while waiting behind the rusty gate. It took him weeks to muster the courage to come to this place. Beads of sweat trickled down his neck as he calm his nerves for his speech.

“Man up, John. She’s just a new neighbor, a gorgeous one at that. You just have to say ‘Hi!’”

He tried to mumble the words again which always lead to a stammering end. As the clock continued ticking, he became more restless.

On the brink of cold feet, he turned away but heard soft voice from behind, “Are you looking for someone?”

Word Count: 102

Here’s my take for this week’s Friday Fictioneers prompt.

Friday Fictioneers s a weekly writing challenge hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields where a photo is used as a prompt for a piece of fiction using 100 words or less.

Enjoy more stories here. 🙂

Twisted Tale

Artwork by Ilya Kuvshinov
Artwork by Ilya Kuvshinov

When her head is buried halfway into your neck and you feel the warm of her breath seep into your skin, you kiss her forehead softly,  eyes closed but you feel her arms tight around you and know she‘s smiling. The feeling,  is probably the best one out there.  -Unknown

Meanwhile, in a parallel universe…

Her head nestled on your shoulder, long soft fingers traveled the crook of your neck, and behind those closed eyes you knew what’s next—or so you thought. For just like a thief that crept on your sleep, you didn’t see it coming. You let an initial gasp of pain escape as she lunged and sank her teeth into the depths of your flesh while her lips sealed the skin of your throat. She gurgled and slurped your blood now soured by greed as your neck bone crushed under her teeth. Lethargy sets in and you could feel your life draining away. Her eyes remained closed at first, drinking you in; then they opened. She froze rigid, her mouth clenched and her eyelids squeezed tighter. Slowly, a single tear fell and her eyes widened in horror. It was the longest silence you’ve ever had and the loudest voice you’ve ever heard.

“Noooooooooo!” she screamed.

And that feeling is probably the worst one out there.

It’s been more than a week of endless workload and more than a week of literature drought. I haven’t written anything since then and I wish I could just spend one whole day with this blog. This mental exhaustion is dragging me down and I would give anything just to vanish for a few second and find my inner peace. 😦

Anyway here’s a quick post that I wanted to share. I read this one from Berlin-artparasites, one of the literature pages that I follow on Facebook. The artwork was beautiful and so was the caption. While reading, I couldn’t help but twist the lovely tale and gave it a bitter end (probably because I was feeling worn-out and crazy).



The town has become quiet and dark; and the shadows seemed oddly forbidding. The only thing that illuminates the murky evening was a cruise ship docked by the marina.

A sudden wave of homesickness hit her in a flash—not the kind that makes you gloomy and miserable—but the kind that reminds you of who you once were.

Every night she would crawl into this wharf, doing her best to remember. Remember the footsteps, the words said, and what it sounded like when her dad gets home; back to the age of princesses, when her mom calls her pumpkin as she kiss her under the glowing moon.

She felt a twinge– a strange and baffling twinge that she had never felt before. Now, more than ever, she longed to be transported into that peaceful modest place, to saunter, to take a key from her pocket and open the bedroom door, to sit by the hearth, to wrap her arms around them, and to stay there ad infinitum.

But as to when she will leave this town, she does not know.

She stared at the docked cruise ship, wondering if it’ll take her home.

Home. Where is home?

Word Count: 198

Ever since I started living oceans away from my family, I’ve always had this aching nostalgia whenever I see piers and ships. “There’s no place like home” – so they say; and it’s such a lump in the throat missing the old times.

Here’s for this week’s Sunday Photo Fiction prompt.

Sunday Photo Fiction is a weekly writing challenge hosted by Alastair Forbes where a photo is used as a prompt for a piece of fiction using around 200 words. The piece doesn’t have to center around exactly what the photo is, it can be just used as a basis for a story.

Enjoy more stories here. 🙂

A chant to the moon and stars


Katie opened the bedroom window. The storm finally broke and the air felt cool and clean. While pockets of mist rose from the ground, rolling clouds drifted past the moon that hung above the trees.

She motioned to her drawer taking out an antique pyramid figure, stones, and a blue rose.

“This is crazy. Oh well… what do I have to lose!” she said scowling

Three minutes later, a soft voice filled the room with words that echoed to the night sky.

Seven stones in a circle
Crescent moon hear my plea
Rose petals in the middle
Oh night stars lead him to me
I pray thee for true love
In the breath of the night
Draw from universe
A perfect love that is right.  

With a sigh of relief, Katie glanced at the window once again. She tucked herself back to bed, her eyes closed with a silent hope for the moon and stars to hear her chant.

Midnight came and the leaves turned from sporadic silver and black as they shimmered in the evening breeze. And in the midst of silence, like those we see in fairytales, silver dust came out of the pyramid and sprinkled over our sleeping  Katie.

Here’s for this week’s Sunday Photo Fiction prompt by Al Forbes. Enjoy more stories here. 🙂

When I’m braver…


The birds sang and the sun embraced the crowd with warmth and welcome. He was pacing slowly as he marvel the beauty of what nature has to offer when he heard a familiar voice calling out his name.

“Jaaaaaaays! Hurry! Look! God, this place is beyond beautiful.”

He looked around and found her at the center of the hanging bridge across the towering waterfalls. It’s Ella. She was eagerly watching the teeming waters; her eyes glisten in delight as she gave him her sweetest smile that took his breath away.

“Jaaaaaays. I love it! This is the best birthday ever!” Ella screamed as she gave him a bear hug. “Hey brave man, I know you’re afraid of heights, come on hold my hand.”

He looked into her eyes and thought, “One day, when I am a braver man, I will tell you how I feel and ask you to be mine. But until that day, I’m your bestfriend.”

Their hands then interlocked and for just a fleeting moment, a tiny wisp of time, he wondered if she, too, was in love with him.

Here’s for the Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers challenge. This week’s photo prompt is provided by Etol Bagam. If you’d like to view other entries, click the little blue frog below:

Perfect Spot

MFtS 1

He thought he found the perfect hiding spot,

…and a perfect spot it really is.

His name is Gus but he’s not your ordinary cat. He could still remember the day when he walked into this random yellow door and imposed his stay in the house where a family of five resides— a mother, a father, and three younglings.

But don’t get the wrong idea. Continue reading “Perfect Spot”

Ironborn: then, now, and for always

FFfAW 1“Fascinating, isn’t she?” said a voice stirring her thoughts.

The balmy summer breeze is a complete contrast to the humid atmosphere as Maya stared at the Casterly Rock.

“Father.” She smiled.

He stood up on the edge of the balcony’s railing and swung his legs over and sat on it. “I see you fancy the view, eyeing on the still and crisp scenery, a penny for your thought my dear?”

“They said that place was a holocaust. Bones and flesh of the infamous Greyjoy family, butchered and mangled, lay in ashes in the ruins of Casterly Rock. Is it true?” she asked.

“A boy did escape, that, they didn’t know.” He stared. “The boy traveled the vast oceans, learning how to read and write, studying the conduct of chivalry and courtesy, understanding the mysteries of faith, and dressing in silk and velvet. A new man he became but when you look into his eyes the sea will always be there—cold, grey, and brutal.”

“I’d like to meet him in this lifetime.”

“Oh dear, you already did.”

Here’s my 177 word story for the Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers challenge. This week’s photo prompt is provided by TJ Paris. It is actually my first try and I find the dare really fun. 🙂

PS. When I first saw the photo, GoT came into mind in a heartbeat and ,yes, I just have to pep it up.

If you’d like to view other entries, click the little blue frog below:

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