Friday Fictioneers: Morning-After Vertigo

Friday Fictioneers * Rochelle Wisoff-Fields * Photo by Maria Gail Stratford *
Morning-After Vertigo * 85 words * Angela Shaffer * 1 Apr 2016

mg-buildings

Morning-After Vertigo

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!

@MmePhilosopher

 

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