Friday Fictioneers * Rochelle Wisoff-Fields * Photo by Maria Gail Stratford *
Morning-After Vertigo * 85 words * Angela Shaffer * 1 Apr 2016
Wind whipped tangled locks,
traces of late-night havoc still
clinging to the skin. Seeping
regret tinged red and green –
jealous as an itch on missed flesh.
The edge altered reality, tilting
the grip, slipping the step, blurring
the hold – slighting gravity.
Double the trip and let the mind
dip farther past matter. Stretch out,
reaching, grasping, swiping –
pregnant as a pause on hushed lips.
If tottered too far up the steep sweeping
stoop – binge on delusion in last fleeting
moments. Until the bottom comes quick.
~ Hello dear Readers and Writers …
Thank you, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields for fun Friday fiction. Thank you, Maria Gale Stratford for the photo.
Since April is Poetry Month, I crafted a few lines inspired by how dizzy I got thinking how high up the building was – and how much further the Marriott stretches. I saw a party-girl waking up disoriented and curious, foolishly teetering on the edge – the edge of the building and the edge of decency.
Click the Frog to read diverse interpretations of this photo prompt from Friday Fictioneers writers.
Thank you for reading!