Getting back into the flow of writing, mostly with wordplay and poems. I'm a creative soul, from childhood to middle age, and my joy is to produce new things the world has never seen before. I'm an educator from the USA working as a college professor of lit and music. I'm learning to love myself little by little.
Everything seemed to happen at once. Stella lived at two speeds simultaneously. In what felt like it should have taken only a second or two, the moon sprang upon her back and spread out like an effulgent tarpaulin, pressing her skin into the pricking fence wires and blocking her view. It seemed a violent act, but she experienced it as if it were a gentle, deliberate caress. It bothered her for a moment, and then her memory supplied an image. She wasn't sure if it was the right one: Stella, a girl at 26, taking her darling baby gently by the feet, lifting the bottom away to change a diaper, wiping carefully, drying, powdering, and re-wrapping.
As it turned out, it was not an unfitting image. The moon's substance, spread thin and flat and quite unlike a moon, covered Stella like a comforter, or like a flour tortilla, for that matter. At its edges the wires of the fence were snipped.
Stella rose into the air as slowly as whispering in the dark and under her the edges gathered together securely, under the stars.
No sequels yet. Why not write one?
Comments (2 so far!)
- #951 Posted 3 years ago
I had a neat idea for the next part while walking to work today, by the way. Want to do it. I'm glad you got the burrito image too. :D Great steampunk costume Elsha!
- #955 Posted 3 years ago
Inspired by (sequel to):
Feeling the moon approach, Stella tried to hurry her steps, but it was not easy; the barbed fence ju…Chrysalis Moon
- Published 3 years ago.
- Story viewed 9 times and rated 0 times.
All stories on Ficlatté are licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 License. What does this mean?