Son of 6 word story -- 6 (or less) lines of 6 words each

[Teresa Edgerton]

I joined in on the 6 word story thread last night -- for the first time -- and such was my lack of discipline that I kept coming up with related sentences where none of them told a complete story. So even though I liked them, I couldn't use them.

But it suggested the idea for a new game/exercise/whatever: Stories or prose/poems of 2-6 lines of six words each. (And it's not a rule, but since this is an SFF forum, the fantastical, the science-fictional, or the grotesque get extra kudos.)

I'll begin:

A mermaid makes a slippery bedfellow,
Her heart is pickled in brine.
Her lover wakes to salty sheets,
And finds sea-slugs in his hair.


He makes toys for morbid minds,
We, the pawns, can not escape.


Does anyone else want to play?

 

[Talysia]

Sounds like a good idea, Teresa. I keep getting that way with my six-word stories, too. I'll give it a go.

Playful sprites find their sport everywhere.
They love to hide things anywhere,
Tie knots in sleeping people's hair
And dance around without a care.
Although they're shy and seldom seen
They're never bad and rarely mean.

(When I started that, I had no idea it was going to rhyme. I know the last two don't exactly fit, though)

 

[Teresa Edgerton]

Oh, very good, Talysia!

She sows stars like shining seeds,
Who comes to reap the crop?

 

[Talysia]

She sings, atop the river rock.
Her song brings sailors to ruin.

 

[Giovanna Clairval]

Under the trees, pale birds sleep.
The sky is filled with fire.
Run up the hill, rivers deep,
And fish die in the mire.

“Forget your peace, forget all love,”
The wild-eyed daimon said.
“Now, flee the upturned world above;
In my song rest your head.”

EDIT: Moon! I hadn't seen the "6" lines instruction. It came out 8-line long...

 

[Talysia]

That's a good one, Giovanna.

With gilded wings, he leaves heaven,
To seek the one who fell.
Golden pinions confront the blackened ones.
In their fight, rests the world.

 

[Teresa Edgerton]

We'll count it as two of four, Giovanna.

Fear wraps herself in vaporous night
And follows me on silent feet.

 

[Talysia]

Garbed in darkness, shod in silence,
Death creeps about the world, searching.

(On a lighter note)

Born at the dawn of time,
Timelessly watching the eons go by,
She waits and watches, seeing all.
Mother Earth continues to support us.

 

[Giovanna Clairval]

A ghost, creeping on my bed,
gets tangled in the sheet.

When I awake, he hasn't fled.
'At last,' he says, 'we meet.'

 

[Sephiroth]

Drowsy, ominous zeitgeist, creeping dark malaise,
Errant steps, leading down incorrigible ways.
Seven angels singing, shattering the seals.
Sacred Har-Megiddo, sound of clashing steel.

 

[Teresa Edgerton]

Silence holds me, I cannot speak;
An evil spell stops my pulse.


A bone, a tiny finger tip
That catches briefly in his throat
Warns the ogre's startled dinner guest:
That he who dines well today,
May be dined upon, the morrow.

 

[Giovanna Clairval]

You went away one summer day.
The light now grows October's night.
Come back, come back, I say.
You know this is not right.

 

[Teresa Edgerton]

October heatwave, stepchild of the seasons
Wind lies breathless, trees are wondering
Who will sweep the leaves away?

(and because everyone else is writing in rhyme)

A wretched creature wrought of spells,
Runes like scars upon the skin.
It rattles doors throughout the town,
But none will let it in.

 

[Sephiroth]

Transient joy like autumn's fading sun,
Blessed moments snatched beneath the leaves.
Soon they fall, rusted and decayed,
Torn like summer's hopeless lost love.

 

[Teresa Edgerton]

Autumn afternoon: I smell their smoke,
Leaf scent rising like burning incense.
So we hallow the dying year.

 

[Sephiroth]

Far-sighted vision of a distant shore,
Sails unfurled, excitement gripped us all.
Too late the warning from within,
None shall return home once more.

 

[Teresa Edgerton]

Eyes like seawater and as deep
Circe watches them swim to shore
Some as lovers she may keep
For others she plans something ... more.

 

[Wiglaf]

Ducking behind a stall, Dustin hid.
It wasn't him that brought the plague.
He had fled home in time.
Wasn't he well when he arrived?
That didn't stop the locals though.
They thought he brought God's wrath.

 

[Wiglaf]

A light is in the distance.
Laughter floats softly through the air.
The smell of hot supper beckons.
Alone in the cold, I starve.

 

[Teresa Edgerton]

Very good, Wiglaf!

Hunger sinks its claws in deep;
My throat is dry with thirst.
Yet, I dare not feast tonight;
There is venom in the cups.