www #37 – Out of Breath – Text #1

Circus

Around me I see shapes

I am surrounded

Disorientated

There are too many forms

 

I can’t escape

I am a prisoner of this world

Of fakes and breaks,

And tears/i:/ and tears/e/

They come and grab me,

Try to catch a glimpse,

Cling to a piece of me.

WWW#36 – Broken – Text#2

Eyesight Readjustment

by B. 

Sometimes, when all hope seems lost, and you are left there
Staring at this man-made, senseless, chaotic mess.
All you need to do is shift focus, walk further,
Step back. Look beyond the borders of your picture.

Choose a new standpoint, focus on the elements
Move things around as you please. Fly them up and down.

Featured Challenge #13 – Death – Text#2

Unrest 

by B. 

Flapping wings fluttering about
Blackcurrant and raspberry bushes
Interwoven with weeds

Teeny-tiny ants treading around laid down cover,
Climbing on limbs
Human presence disturbed by Nature’s touch

Beautiful chaos
Endless strife
Humans invading
Nature gaining ground
Humans pushing back

WWW #37 – Out of Breath – Text #2

Départ différé

by B. 

Il la regardait au loin. Elle avait l’air pensive. L’esprit lourd, préoccupée par des tracas qui lui étaient bien étrangers.

***

Pendant des années, il l’avait vue sans la voir. Elle travaillait dans le restaurant qui se trouvait juste à côté de sa boite, celui où il allait chaque fois que l’occasion se présentait d’impressionner un client. Un établissement sans prétention qui ne payait pas de mine et n’amassait pas foule, mais dont chaque bouchée remplissait le cœur des convives en ravissant leurs papilles.

Deux mois plus tôt, lors d’un diner professionnel, elle s’était révélée à lui avec la rareté d’une apparition ordinaire dans un contexte familier. Elle avait décroché son téléphone lors de son service. Par ce geste, elle était sortie de l’anonymat qui l’avait caractérisée jusqu’à présent. Il n’avait pas pu s’empêcher de l’écouter dévoiler soudainement son intimité par bribes.

D’abord un peu gêné par cet excès d’observation à sens unique, il s’était retrouvé absorbé par son monde, l’intensité de ses sentiments, la force de son timbre de voix. Cette affirmation insoupçonnée lui apparaissait soudain comme une évidence. Elle s’en trouvait transformée en un être magnétique, et son regard ne pouvait s’en détacher.

Sans le savoir, celle qui s’était toujours fondue dans l’espace, en un instant de contraste avait capté son attention pour ne plus jamais la relâcher. Elle hantait ses jours et ses nuits. Il avait pris de l’avance sur les sentiments qu’il espérait qu’ils pourraient partager. Il savait que c’était à son tour à présent de créer les circonstances qui pourraient engager une réciprocité.

WWW #38 – Escape – Text #1

Red Ocean

by B. 

She was standing alone
Thinking about her boy at home
Assembling in her mind
A list of groceries
She could not afford to buy.

Sitting by the window,

He takes a deep breath,

Closes his eyes and boom!

He is at the station,

Hopping on a train.

 

His destination takes

But a second to reach.

He is now sitting in the sand,

Listening to the waves,

Breathing in the ocean.

 

She comes in.

 

He was waiting for her.

WWW #33 – Deleted / Erased – Text #1

Remembering Your Smile

by The Gold Hourglass 

I fell on my knees, the phone slipping from my fingers. I knew someone was still talking on the other side, consoling. You were gone, and that’s all I knew. Lost forever after years of walking together.

WWW #31 – A Heart Warming Tale – Text #1

A Winter’s Night

By B.

Winter cold biting
At my lips – prickling skin sends
Shivers down my spine

On and on I walk
Numbed – I let frozen air in
Filling up my lungs

Refreshing, light blow
Renewing life, gushing in
And out – blessed pain

WWW#30 – Scarf – Text #1

Le Foulard

Texte original, écrit par B. 

 

Elle regardait à l’horizon.

Le dos légèrement courbé,

Les coudes appuyés sur la balustrade.

 

Elle avait l’air pensive,

A la fois résolue et épuisée,

Plongée dans l’abysse de l’univers qui l’entourait

 

L’aspirait et l’entrainait avec elle

Sans qu’elle soit en mesure de naviguer,

De contrôler la direction que sa vie prenait.

 

Elle ferma les yeux un instant,

Et prit une grande inspiration.

Elle les rouvrit, grand.

 

Elle fit un tour sur elle-même,

Puis deux, puis trois,

Elle virevoltait à présent.

WWW#27 – Success – Text #2

Talaria*

by Hailie Andersen

That was the second time, Timothy walked in this place. It was a case of love at first sight between the man and this hotel. He had not needed many visits to sign the deeds. Just one look and he was all in. That did not happen to him very often, so he had just indulged in the extravagant impulsion.

Interview With A Writer – #4 – Special

Merry Christmas Everyone!

Here comes a very special piece to our Interview With a Writer series. A few days ago, I dared ask Sarah Doughty if she would mind answering a few questions (5-10 of the list I sent her), and you know what, she responded she would not mind at all, and happily answered not just five or ten, but all of them. You cannot begin to imagine how broad a smile I shone, when I opened my mailbox yesterday.

Sarah needs no introduction on WordPress, but just in case you have not encountered her and her work yet, here is a link to her addictive blog: Heartstring Eulogies and below are two of my favorite micro poetry lines recently authored by Sarah: 

TO LOVE

To love is to be
vulnerable
and willing
to endure the pain
if that love doesn’t last.

© Sarah Doughty

STILL FRAME

Time can wait
because you’re
here with me and
nothing else matters.

© Sarah Doughty

Not only is Sarah an incredibly talented writer, whose griping lines hook us all on a daily basis, she is one of the most generous souls out there. She is always ready to give positive feedback, help and provide support to other writers. Through her interview, you will discover that she is that, and so much more. 

This interview is very special to us, at Mug’s Tale, since Sarah has been one of our very first followers. She has been a rock dispensing her support to our work from the very beginning. Offering her the spotlight on our blog is our very modest way to thank her. I will stop there as her kindness and beautifully crafted words speak for themselves, and are such a delight to read!

Without further ado…. 

Meet – Sarah Doughty

Introduction

– Could you tell us a few words about yourself? (Introduce yourself – where do you come from? – Where do you live? – What do you do for a living? – any dreams, aspirations? – …. ) 

I’m Sarah Doughty, born, raised, and still living in Indiana. Long story short, I suffer from complex PTSD, anxiety, depression, and migraines. I spend my time with my family and doing therapeutic hobbies — most of which consist of writing. Writing helps me to escape and I’m really passionate about it. I dream of the day I can once again feel whole, and if that day ever comes, I’ll see where my dreams take me.

***

Books 

– If there were one book you could recommend to our readers, which would it be? 

Without knowing a genre, it’s a little hard for me to answer this question, so I’ll recommend two. First, On Writing by Stephen King. Sure, a good portion of it is a memoir, but some of the biggest things I learned from King are: to be a writer you must also be a reader, you must write every day, and you have to know the rules in order to break them.

Second, I’d have to say that any book that can make me feel like I’m in a new place, in someone else’s head, that book is a winner to me. The first time I read something that really helped me when I needed it, it made me realize how important books are, not just to read, but to escape.

I remember reading Alice Hoffman, Stephen King, and Anne Rice (among others) as a kid. And when I grew up, somehow urban fantasy/paranormal romance seemed to pull me in better than anything else. I drank in Jeaniene Frost, Karen Marie Moning, and Charlaine Harris, just to name a few.

– Is there a book you read that you think changed your life somehow or spoke to you in a way that no other book did?