In loving you
I found myself
I gave up some
Of the old me
To be parts of us
And now we
Are both free
—Gina (Singledust), Sweet Whispers #5—
This week, I’m taking you to Malaysia, the fiery vibrant home where I was born, and the current home of a dear friend here on WordPress. Gina, or as you may know her better from her blog Singledust, and I clicked from the very beginning. It was like our souls recognized each other from opposite sides of the country (as I currently live in NYC), and exclaimed “ah! My friend from a prior lifetime, it seems I’ve found you again!” Continue reading “[Writer’s Quote Wednesday] Sweet Whispers”
Gianna snapped open her easel and balanced it on the smooth boulder. Unpacking her canvas and her various charcoal supplies, she soaked in the warmth of the sunlight seeping through the trees and the chirping of the birds beyond.
Her hand poised over the blank paper, she exhaled a deep breath and began to draw. Gentle charcoal strokes brought to life the memory she dreamt of every night for the last three years, a memory that was more wishful thinking than truth, but felt as real as any piece of her past. Continue reading “[Flash Fiction] The Memory”
Icy stalactites hung from the ceiling of the devastated room like jagged teeth ready to devour. She stepped over the frozen debris—bricks crushed into frosty cubes, a lone chair wheel spinning aimlessly—and approached her ex-lover pinned to the wall. An icicle jutted out from each of his shoulders.
“Oh honey, I was always the stronger one.” She cupped air in her palms and turned her wrists outward. Her ex-lover screamed as the icicles twisted further into his flesh. Continue reading “[Flash Fiction] Jealousy”
With every step she took, frigid mist rolled over the sand, devouring the little grains’ warmth. The crackling of the sand freezing under her feet echoed through the air, announcing her presence.
“Knock knock, guess who?” She lilted in a sing-song voice, pausing at the broad stone gate guarding where he dwelled. Bending down to the gate’s bottom beam, she scratched into the stone with her fingernail, as sharp as an icicle and as hard as a diamond. Traitor’s Gate. An apt name for her traitor of an ex-lover. Continue reading “[Flash Fiction] Traitor’s Gate”
Her steps barely left a trace on the snow as she crossed the glade. Her fingers brushed against the frozen pine needles, sending crystalline flakes falling to the ground.
He thought he could get rid of her by abandoning her here, did he? She scoffed, shaking strands of ebony locks out of her face. He should have known better.
Continue reading “[Flash Fiction] Red Glass & Crystals”
First, the fire burned a steel gray, like the cold unrelenting metal around her finger.
Then, the fire turned to amber—not the warm golden that comforted her in Autumn, but a dark rusty yellow that made her think of factories, long abandoned.
Slowly, the fire glowed a rich crimson, until she could feel the heat emanating from its core and threatening to sear her skin. Continue reading “[Flash Fiction] Blue Fire”
Her little fingers pressed each key carefully. “Daddy, when is mommy coming home? I want her to hear me play.”
Her voice was as melodious as the simple nursery rhyme she was practicing on the piano. “Not for a long time, sweetheart, but Daddy’s listening. ‘Mary Had A Little Lamb’, right?”
Continue reading “[Flash Fiction] A Different Planet”
I know what lurks beneath
The rippling muscles and the silky hair.
I know what’s underneath
The sultry eyes and the way he stares.
He always said I was soft and sweet
Too trusting and too prim,
But I have a heart that always beats
And I can’t say that for him.
© Jade M. Wong 2017 Continue reading “[Poetry] A Heart”
A chilly breeze plucked a white petal off the tulip sitting at the open window.
He loves me.
A second plucked petal floated with the breeze before coming to a rest on the damp soil.
He loves me not. Continue reading “[Flash Fiction] White Petals”
Spring cleaning had a tendency to unearth past lives she spent years forgetting. Staring at the raggedy shoebox, she felt the lock on the memories turning in her mind.
She picked up the London postcard with the bright red double decker bus. She didn’t have to turn it over to remember what was written on the other side. Before the memories of riding through the city with his hand in hers could escape the lock in her mind, she pushed the postcard aside. Continue reading “[Flash Fiction] Return To Sender”